


Nobody's Weapon

by ShadowBat48



Series: Nobody's Weapon [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Tragedy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 38
Words: 103,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22420225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowBat48/pseuds/ShadowBat48
Summary: Darren Crowne has been training to be a Talon since he was five. He knows there is something secret keeping them from changing him. He doesn't want to be this weapon for the Court of Owls, but his ability to fight his fate dwindles. Freedom is a fragile privilege denied to many. Though Darren does learn that there are different paths to follow as family ties and secrets are revealed.This story is an AU incorporating the Court of Owls storyline with a twist.
Relationships: Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake
Series: Nobody's Weapon [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983688
Comments: 11
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello fellow Ao3 readers! This is my first story on this site but it is not the first fanfiction I have ever written. I've written a few various stories, all related to Batman and the DC Universe over on Fanfiction.net because I am an old crone and did not realize this was the place to be. I hope you enjoy this story, it is a trilogy so far and I am currently working on the fourth installment of this series. As I typically do with the start of a new story I will post the first two chapters one after the other and then post chapters weekly.  
>    
> Disclaimer: I own nothing (don't know if I have to do this here)
> 
> Enjoy!

The blow came before he could stop it, it slammed right into his jaw causing him to follow that momentum to the right. His right shoulder hit the stone wall and he heard rather than felt the pop as his shoulder dislocated. He didn't grunt in pain, only fell to the ground, panting and looking up at his opponent. They'd been going at it for hours, training for hours, he was only human. He was tired…but that didn't stop his trainer, his trainer of almost ten years. His trainer clucked his tongue at him,

"You were sloppy Darren. You could have stopped that hit," a hand grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him to his feet. Darren stumbled slightly but stood straight, one hand on his shoulder, "I know you are only human, but that will not be a problem for much longer. The better you are at fighting now, the more powerful you will be once you are a Talon."

A Talon. An undead assassin that kills for the Court of Owls. A centuries-old secret organization who use their immense power and influence as well as murder through their Talons to wield political influence throughout history The Owls consist of some of Gotham City's oldest and wealthiest families who use murder and money to wield political influence throughout history. The Talons take orders from them and kill whoever gets in the Owls' way. Darren was just a boy when he was taken in by them, only five years old. His ancestor, William Cobb trained him himself and declared Darren his heir, they worked that way through legitimacy. A Talon would find his closest living relative and bring him into the fold or if there were no living heirs—that was seen as disgraceful and shameful by Talons and Owls alike—they would take a street rat or someone no one would ever think twice about. No one asked if he wanted that position, no one asked if he wanted to kill people…yet here he was. Always training, always fighting and still human…thankfully still human. He didn't know why they were waiting. He didn't know what schemes were being created but he knew that he didn't want the strength or speed, he didn't want the enhanced sight and hearing or the extended life. He didn't want any of that…yet here he still was, being groomed to be just that: a Talon.

He desperately wanted things to go back to how it all was. It had just been him and his mother and a huge mansion in Gotham…but it was home. It was his life. Sure he didn't know a lot of things about his mother or her family's history…but he'd been happy. They had both been happy. They didn't need his father or want him in their lives and apparently the man thought the same for he never came, never. Not even when Darren's mother was killed in a car crash. Not even when he was taken by the Court. He didn't come for him or to claim him. In fact, the will of his mother sent him to 'a close family friend,' the Powers. A family that had never been mentioned in his home by his mother or anyone of the staff. Darren wanted to know the truth. He wanted to know what William had hidden in a chest in his room. He'd tried to sneak in and take a look when he was eleven, but William caught him. He'd been beaten so badly that he could barely move for a week…and they still made him train, claiming they were making him better. Preparing him to play a little harder…whatever that meant.

A booted foot flew into his chest and Darren fell back against the stone wall again, his head bouncing off of it bringing a grunt of pain from his mouth as he slid down to his butt. Darren glared at William, William smirked back. His arm hurt and he knew some of his ribs were bruised,

"Come on boy!" William growled, "Get up and fight,"

"You already won. What's the point?" Darren muttered, he knew William would hear, he always heard. William's hand grabbed his shirt again and pulled him off the ground, his feet barely touching the floor. His face mere inches from Darren's,

"What is the point you ask? The point is you are always the winner. You _make_ yourself the winner. When it comes to kill or be killed…you win. You kill!" Darren said nothing, just glared into William's charcoal-colored eyes. The whoosh of a blade being drawn sounded to Darren's right but he still didn't break his stare. William loved his little knives and Darren refused to be scared by them, "Would kill or be killed be what it takes to get you moving? What do you say, boy, you want to become a Talon today?" Darren gritted his teeth and threw his forehead into William's, making the man drop him to the floor. Darren landed on his feet, barely…they almost buckled underneath him as William stumbled back, laughing,

"That's the spirit!" he hissed as Darren sprinted forward. He threw a punch and William dodged but moved right into his roundhouse kick. It hit him in the side, causing a muffled 'oof' from the man. Even so, the kick cost Darren. He couldn't keep his balance with his bad arm unable to move with him as he completed the kick. He fell over, his good arm catching him before his head hit the ground. With a grunt, he rolled over onto his hands and knees, about to get up to his feet when a heavy boot connected with his side. A hollow thunk sounded as he was kicked across the floor. Rolling over and over until he came to a stop on his hands and knees again. His side burned and his shoulder ached. All he wanted was to lie on the ground and sleep but William wouldn't like that. He'd shake him into consciousness and beat him afterward for it,

"You are to go to your parents' house tonight. There is a party…apparently Gotham is wondering where it's third Powers brat is," William was walking over to him. He stopped by where he stood crouched, a hand went to his shoulder and before Darren could protest it was wrenched back into position. Darren let out a startled cry of pain, causing William to scoff and kick him in the side again,

"Pathetic,"

"They're not my parents," Darren gasped as he carefully and slowly got to his feet,

"I don't care what they are. Had you have been in that car crash we wouldn't have to put up the pretense that you are still alive and you could remain here at all times. But seeing as you were _not_ there and Gotham still loves the Crownes…even the last living heir…we had to work around it," Darren bit his tongue, he desperately wanted to shout 'and where was my say in this!?' but he couldn't anger William, it wouldn't be worth it. He couldn't run, he couldn't hide, he couldn't do anything…but obey, "Go get cleaned up. You leave in an hour," Darren turned and left only to stop with a cry of pain as something sharp pierced his left shoulder. He stumbled a step and turned to face William, anger sharp and furious building up but he didn't say anything. Just pulled the dagger out and tossed it on the floor,

"Pay better attention next time. And try harder too," William snapped, "Enjoy the party," Darren continued on his way, both his shoulders aching madly as he turned the corner.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised here's the second chapter! I also don't typically do chapter summaries, I don't really know if that's required or not. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing (still not sure if this is needed...?)
> 
> Enjoy!

In the sanctuary of his Court of Owls room, Darren sat on his bed. It was a large king-sized bed with blood-red down comforter and many pillows. The walls were bare, the bookshelves filled with books ranging from history to fantasy. He'd never had time to read or even look at any of them. Sure he'd been schooled by the Court but they had made everything about the Court…even math. He wasn't sure how they did that, but he was pretty well versed in all subjects. He knew that it was their attempt at brainwashing him to willingly do the Courts demands, but he'd somehow avoided that. It was like he was immune. He got his GED a few months ago and was free of all that now. Of course, it was in secret—the Owls knew a guy—, the Powers still had to keep up the lie that he was away at Boarding School. The media ate it up. How he was so happy to be welcomed by the Powers into their home…but he hated them. They were Owls. Both of the Powers were, there to keep an eye on Darren when he had to be in the public's eye and to ignore him once the cameras and people were gone. Derek and Erik, their biological sons made Darren's life a living hell and were spoiled as well as rotten to the core. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to stay there very long. It was weird actually wanting to come back to The Nest. Where the Talons lived and trained. But when he was sent back to the Powers's home it reminded him of how awful they were and how miserable his life was…and that he'd actually rather be back here…training. A weird messed up sense of irony that was. He hated the idea of the Court and becoming a Talon, yet while away from it, all he wanted was to be back.

Darren sighed and pulled off his sweaty and bloody shirt and pants before heading to the shower, he ignored the sting the hot water brought and just let it wash over him and cleaned himself off before heading out to dry off and get dressed in that phony uniform they conjured up for when he 'came back from boarding school.' He wrapped his shoulder before putting the shirt on and was about to try and put the tie on—it was a clip-on, but the clipping part was faulty—only to stop when a knock sounded. Sighing Darren opened the door and was surprised to see Ash, one of his year-mates from before he was declared William's heir. Each one of his year-mates were declared the heir of someone when they reach the nest of the Talons. They train together in the mornings and then with their ancestor in the afternoons through the evenings. Ash eyed the uniform, sporting two black eyes and a bloody nose,

"Did you pick a fight with Edgar again?" Darren asked by way of greeting. He didn't always hate it here…he did have friends in a sense, or at least a friend who didn't completely hate him,

"Going back to the mortal world again?" Ash rebutted. 'Mortal world' is what they called the world of Gotham that is normal. Those who don't know about the Court or anything of the sort,

"Yes," Ash said mutely,

"Sadly yes," Darren said answering Ash's question, "Stop picking fights with him. He's bigger and older than you,"

"Once we're Talons age won't matter," Ash replied. He was different than Darren in that he actually wanted to become a Talon. He'd been a street rat his entire life…his earliest memory was fighting a stray dog for food at the age of two. He'd been taken by the Court a year after Darren had been here and was badly on the malnourished side, so Darren showed him the ropes. Got him the best pieces of meat for dinner, taught him how to get the food away from everyone as they were fighting for it. He helped 'fatten' him up…or he would have if there wasn't training involved with this lifestyle. They eat whatever they could get their hands on and sometimes that wasn't enough, not with the amount of training they have to endure, and when they became Talons they'd eat three times as much he was sure. He'd seen most of the older Talons eat to know that they have at least four stomachs each since they used so much energy training, running, using their strength and most importantly healing,

"That only happens if you pass the Labyrinth," Darren reminded Ash. Each new Talon would be placed in the Labyrinth with an older Talon, the Talon they were meant to replace. Whoever kills whoever first got to stay…the other was dead. That was yet another reason why Darren didn't want to be a Talon. He didn't want to kill anyone…even when that's all his training had been teaching them. Every time he refused to kill a Talon, who would come back as long as he wasn't beheaded or had his heart ripped out, he would be punished horribly for it, but internally he knew it was worth it…it had to be worth it. Ash was silent for a moment,

"Bring me back some food would ya?"

"Is that the only thing you came down here to ask me?" Darren asked,

"No…it's just some of our year-mates were talking, you weren't there. William held you in private training for longer than usual. They think we haven't been turned into Talons yet because of you," Darren was silent,

"Is that how you got the black eyes?"

"Duh. I told Edgar to shut his rutting mouth and that he doesn't know what he's blubbering about. I said his stupidity is the real reason we still aren't Talons,"

"There was a fight,"

"A bad one. Everyone got in on it,"

"Were you punished?"

"Not as bad as Edgar. Only ten lashes. He got twenty for throwing the first punch,"

"You'd think they'd want us to fight, pick out the weak ones,"

"That's what he Labyrinth's for," Ash said. Silence again,

"What do you think Ash?" Ash's brown eyes narrowed before he answered,

"I don't know what to think. They're waiting for something. Maybe it's you to finally kill or maybe it's something to do with Gotham…I don't know…but you're too God damned stubborn to follow the rules that next time I'm not even going to bother,"

"You do think it's me," Darren muttered,

"I didn't say that,"

"You didn't have to,"

"Look, the way I see it is that one of two things are going to happen. Either one day they break you and you give in or they forcibly turn you into a Talon and freeze you for a few decades…scare you up and erase any memory of your family name in the future. Maybe their waiting for you to get killed yourself…plenty of goons and mobs hate rich people and you're doubly rich thanks to your inheritance and the Powers—,"

"—don't remind me," Darren snapped, his heart quickening at the thought of being frozen. It's called 'Cold Storage,' Talons don't do good in the cold so if one misbehaves or outlives their purpose the Owls would freeze and save them for later. Like they were leftovers sitting in the fridge. It's the ultimate punishment, decades…centuries could go by and you wouldn't know,

"Or maybe they want you to grow up…maybe they want a Talon Owl, an adult. Someone that fits in with society and hunts targets at night. Someone no one would expect to find secrets and conspiracies…targets at parties and traitors within the ranks of the Owls. Someone who could recruit for the Owls, some of those members are ancient with no family left, they'll need more young bloods and who better than to bring them into the fold than someone who knows the benefits of both the Court and the Talons? You'd be rich…a powerful ally, you'd have sway over the other socialites in Gotham. I mean you'll still age as a Talon, but you virtually stop once you reach your late twenties," Darren narrowed his eyes,

"That's…distressing. But what does this have to do with you guys not being Talons?"

"I dunno man. I'm just guessing," Ash said shrugging. A cough from behind Ash jerked their attention to Calvin Rose, another Talon, standing just a few feet away,

"Sorry to ruin such a riveting conversation, but it's time to go Darren," with a sigh Darren waved goodbye to Ash and followed the older Talon out and down the hallways, towards the locked doors and gated wall outside the building,

"So when are you going to leave?" Darren whispered to Calvin…low enough that only the other would hear,

"I have no idea what you're talking about, _boy,"_ Calvin growled, glaring down at him,

"Yeah I know, I wish you could take me with you," he replied and Calvin's face soften,

"Me too," Calvin replied as he opened the door for him.

* * *

Powers Mansion was exactly how Darren had left it. Cold and filled with horrible people. The staff hurried to and fro, carrying garment bags and jewelry boxes, shoes and lint rollers and bobby pins and cuff links. Almost running into one another on their way to one of the Powers. Darren nodded curtly to the butler who didn't so much as blink in his direction as he stepped aside and let him in,

"Ah, Master Darren, what a lovely surprise," he said dryly, "Now get upstairs, Mr. Powers is waiting for you, you stupid boy," Darren rolled his eyes as he ascended the stairs, avoiding staff members as the hurried up and down the stairs. He really didn't understand why they insisted on getting ready on two different floors, he figured it was just to annoy the people who worked for them. He knocked on the door and didn't wait for the reply as he pushed the door open. Inside Shepard Powers was fixing his tie,

"About time you got here," he said, "Your suits on the bed, go change in the bathroom. I need to talk to you," Darren didn't like the sound of that, but he complied. He quickly changed into the black suit and stared down helplessly at the tie…he'd never had to tie one before. His fake uniform had a clip-on tie and he hardly ever actually wore it. He knew what that meant. With a sigh he came out and said to Shepard,

"Can you help me—," he ground the words out, hating how the 'h' word sounded…especially when applied to Shepard, it killed him internally,

"—yes, yes, get over here," Darren sighed again as he approached the tall man. Darren himself almost reached his nose, he was taller than Derek was, but still wasn't as tall as Shepard. Shepard roughly pulled up his collar and fitted the tie around it,

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"This party is very important Darren. Many people are doubting that you're happy here. Rumors are beginning to form. I don't know if you pay attention to the newspapers and the gossip articles and all that, but rumors are spreading. Nasty rumors, and I…well…I don't like that,"

"Well I'm not happy here," Darren answered honestly,

"And I don't care," Shepard stated, "You belong to the Court, _you belong to them._ The only reason you are even here is because you weren't in that stupid car—,"

"—It wasn't a stupid car," Darren interrupted, earning a smack on the head,

"Don't interrupt me," Shepard snapped. Darren didn't apologize, just winced as Powers pulled his tie to tight around his neck and rolled the collar down around it, "Tonight actually smile, and spend time with your brothers,"

"They aren't—," Darren started but stopped has a large hand grabbed him by the chin, forcing him to look up into Shepard's beady eyes,

"As I said before, I don't _care._ You're playing a role, and it needs to be played perfectly or so help me I'll kill you myself. Understand," his grip tightened,

"Yes," Darren ground out,

"Yes, _what?"_

"Yes, _sir,"_ Darren spat out, yanking his chin out of the man's grip, his hands twitching…wanting to wrap around the man's neck, to break it, to pull the life right out of it along with his tongue…Darren shook his head, banishing those thoughts as he stumbled out the door, shoving his hands in his pockets. He wouldn't do that. Not ever. No matter how badly his instincts screamed at him to, he wouldn't become a killer. Not for them, not for himself, not for anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter. Please please please leave a comment and let me know what you think of this story!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Derek and Erik were already downstairs, bickering quietly as the staff still hurried about. They were probably going to be late. They always were. Erik was younger than Darren by two years and Derek was older than him by a year. Both boys had Shepard's dark hair and Lydia's light grey eyes. Darren stood out in this family. He had dirty blond hair and blue-grey eyes. He was also taller than both of the other boys which bothered Derek infinitely,

"Who's stupid party are we going to?" Darren asked, attempting to make conversation as he loosened the noose of a tie around his neck. They glared at him,

"Bruce Wayne's," Erik said, "Shouldn't you already know that?" Darren didn't reply. He'd actually never been to a party at Wayne Manor, he wondered why. And also why they were making him come now. It was odd. Darren was just about to say something else when he felt a light hand on his shoulder and something prickly touch his head. Fast as a viper he grabbed the wrist on his shoulder and threw them over his shoulder and onto the floor, his left forearm at their throat and a vicious snarl on his face. That snarl turned into horror as he stared down at a frightened maid on the floor clutching a brush,

"Oh calm down Darren, she was just going to brush your hair," came Lydia's sharp voice,

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry," Darren said as he helped the lady up, "I didn't know. It was reflex,"

"I'm surprised you didn't kill her Talon scum," Derek sniped,

"I'm not a Talon," Darren snapped, glaring at them,

"Yet," Erik reminded him,

"Hush boys," Lydia said taking the brush from the still shaking lady, "You're dismissed," she snapped and smirked as the lady hurried away,

"You know not to let anyone sneak up on me," Darren hissed as Mrs. Powers neared,

"And where's the fun in that. It's good practice for when you do start to serve the Court. You should have been paying attention, what a pathetic Talon you'll be," Darren bit his tongue, he wanted to say that no, he would not help the Court in _any_ way, shape or form…but again, he didn't have a say in that matter. Besides, Lydia would just report him to the Grandmaster and then he'd really be in trouble. Darren was trapped in their web…or nest really, "Besides, she deserved it. She brought me the wrong earrings three times,"

"That doesn't call for a violent takedown,"

"Oh, but that was all you, not me. I didn't lay a hand on her," Lydia said, smirking. She'd done it to get the staff talking, to get them to not like him…to fear him. Darren's stomach twisted at the thought…and at what that meant. If they were getting ready to let everyone either hate or want to forget him then he would be becoming a Talon soon. Darren didn't like that, "Now stand still or are you going to attack me too? Your hair's a rat's nest,"

"More like an _owl's_ nest," Derek sneered,

"Oh shut up!" Darren growled as Lydia ran a brush through his hair. The feeling bringing him back to when his mother had done the same, and he couldn't help the stinging around his eyes at the littlest thought of her. It took too long before they were ready and before they all pooled into the limo. Darren, ignoring Derek and Erik's sneers and taunts, let his head rest against the seat he was in and closed his eyes. He just wanted this night to be over.

* * *

Once they finally arrived at Wayne Manor, they slipped by the many photographers and news-reporters waiting for the richest and well known Gotham celebrities to arrive and be mobbed by them. Darren had tried to be civil, he tried to smile and seem happy, but he could tell by Shepard's swift glare that he still wasn't pleased or convinced himself that Darren was trying. Darren sighed as they walked through the entrance. They were greeted by a friendly looking butler, who introduced himself as Alfred Pennyworth, and escorted to the main ballroom where everyone else was. This is why Darren hated these things. Too many people in such a small space.

Streamers and banners hung across the windows and atop the staircase, food tables and champagne trays were being brought out as well as small platters of food. People were talking and a small band played in the corner. It seemed they weren't the only ones to arrive late as the host himself was nowhere in sight. Darren didn't care, he just moved out into the crowd. He was eager to leave the Powers' vicinity. A hand grabbing Darren by his collar stopped him,

"Remember what we discussed," Shepard hissed in his ear. Darren gritted his teeth and gave a curt nod as he followed Derek and Erik to the desert table, the rumble in his stomach reminding him that he did not have dinner yet. So he actually joined his 'brothers' in filling a plate high with delicious treats. He didn't get them often so he got a bit addicted every time he was back with the Powers. Derek of course, thinking that he was so smart, smacked the back of Darren's plate causing the chocolate fountain covered food to splash all over his suit,

"So clumsy Darren," Erik snickered along with Derek,

"Yeah, I'm the clumsy one," Darren muttered. As the Powers boys started off somewhere else, Darren swiped out a foot tripping Erik as he went by causing him to fall eagle spread on the floor, right into his plate of food. Some people gasped at the loud crash while Darren nonchalantly ate a chocolate-covered strawberry,

"I'm telling dad!" Erik snapped,

"So?" he said, "He's not my dad,"

" _Exactly,"_ snarled Derek, helping his brother up and disappearing into the crowd. Darren groaned,

"I shouldn't have done that,"

"Why not? It was hilarious," a voice said to his left. Darren started, refraining from punching the guy in the face out of reflex and turned to face him,

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said immediately, eyeing the guy, he was probably a year or two older than him,

"The trip? It was hilarious, I hate their guts. I'm Tim Drake,"

"Darren Crowne," Darren replied, hoping he didn't try and shake his hand. His dominant arm, the arm that got dislocated, still ached dully and he didn't want to move it so much and aggravate it. Thankfully Tim didn't do that, he only raised an eyebrow. Surprise written on his features,

"Crowne?" he asked, "I thought they were all—," he stopped as if realizing something,

"They're mostly all gone," Darren replied. He's so used to saying it that he probably looked as jaded as he felt, "It's just me that's left,"

"Then we're in pretty much the same boat. I'm the last of the Drakes,"

"Well then, here's to inheriting complex empires," Darren muttered rolling his eyes as he held a chocolate strawberry up before eating it, "When we're twenty-one of course," _and if we're not murdered first,_ he added silently in his head,

"You do realize you've eaten like thirty of those in the past two minutes right?"

"So?" Darren said around a mouthful of chocolate,

"Nothing," Tim said, "So…where have you been all this time? We've never seen you before today," Darren didn't know who the 'we' he was referring to, but he swallowed and answered nonetheless,

"I've been at boarding school. The breaks often didn't align," a lie well-practiced,

"Hmm…interesting how they sent you away yet Derek and Erik went to Gotham Academy. Seems like a waste of money to me,"

"I don't care what they do with their money and neither do they it seems. I'm just the extra mouth to feed, they don't need me," it just slipped out. He didn't mean to say that. Of course, that wasn't even true, the Talons fed him, not the Powers. Darren figured his bitterness got the best of him. He had to grit his teeth from groaning at what Shepard would've said had he heard that,

"That doesn't seem fair,"

"A lot about life isn't fair," Darren said in return,

"What's the school called," Darren froze for a second. No one's actually asked him that and in all the conversations where Lydia or Shepard introduced him to someone, they'd done all the talking…all the lying…so he said the first thing that came to his head,

  
"Atrium Academy,"

"Interesting name. I don't think I've heard of it before,"

"It's…uh…it's out of state," he replied, he hoped this Tim guy dropped it, he seemed too…observant. Like he could see a lie instead of hearing it. It was something in his eyes as he held Darren's stare. A hand grabbed his arm and shook him from behind, causing a slight yelp at the jerking motion on his sore and dislocated arm…he hoped Drake didn't hear that either…and he heard Erik's too loud voice in his ear,

"Dad wants to talk to you!" he sneered, Darren sighed,

"It seems I have to—," he stopped mid-sentence…Tim was gone, "—weird," he muttered as he broke Erik's grip on his arm and started toward the back of Shepard. He'd kept an eye on the older man throughout his conversation with Tim…in case he heard any of his careless and unintentional remarks. Thankfully it seemed he was too enthralled in a conversation he was having with a tall man with black hair and dark grey eyes and a young man with black hair but dark blue eyes. The latter was bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet as if bored with the conversation or in need of movement after standing still for so long,

  
"You wanted to—,"

"Ah! Darren! Glad you finally came around to talk to us," Shepard said, rather loud. Darren peered at his adoptive father's eyes and saw they were bloodshot. _Ah, he's drunk,_ he thought to himself, _great, the limo ride back will be horrible,_

"Uh, yeah sure,"

"Oh, Darren you got chocolate all over your suit!" Lydia chided softly, her features completely different from the cold stone expression she usually gave him. Lydia took her napkin and started dabbing at the stain. Darren uncomfortable with the 'attention' took the napkin from her,

"Um…I can do it myself," he said,

"So you're Darren," the man with dark grey eyes said,

"Yep," Darren said, "Darren Crowne at your service,"

_"Crowne?"_ the blue-eyed guy asked, more like exclaimed. They both looked surprised, the blue-eyed guy looked like he'd been electrocuted,

"Yeah, that's what I said," Darren replied, _who are these guys,_ he thought to himself suspiciously,

"Darren that's no way to talk to our host," Lydia stated, giving him a stare. So this was Bruce Wayne. He was tall, broad-shouldered and had a very piercing stare,

"Bruce Wayne," he said extending his hand. Darren almost groaned but forced himself to move his hand, careful not to wince. His hands were almost as calloused as Darren's were which was odd for the tabloid prince of Gotham. Darren almost got away with the handshake but Shepard put his hand on his shoulder, his grip tighter than he probably meant it to be… _or not_ …and Darren let out a startled wince of pain. He straightened quickly, trying to make that wince invisible but he could tell by the way the other guy with Mr. Wayne frowned that it didn't go unnoticed,

"Richard Grayson, you can call me Dick," the guy said, thankfully not extending his hand for a shake. Darren nodded then frowned in thought, he had a feeling he heard that name before but couldn't quite place where, "Where've you been? Never seen you at any parties before and Tim never mentioned you went to GA," Dick must've been one of Tim's adoptive brothers, he heard Bruce Wayne did have a few adopted children. Shepard answered before he himself could,

"Darren's been at boarding school. His breaks just didn't match up with any of the galas. It's out of state and a very fine establishment if I do say so myself,"

"What's it called. I have a younger son myself, maybe he'd fit right in there," Bruce said, Dick rolled his eyes with a smirk on his face as if to say 'no, he wouldn't fit in at all' but held his tongue. Again Darren tried to answer but Shepard beat him to it,

"Smeltings Prep," Shepard said smoothly and Darren bit back a curse, of course it wasn't anywhere near the name Darren gave Tim…that was just great. And of course Shepard would use the name of a school from a book series that his tadpole brain somehow managed to pull out from his ass as his boarding school. Bruce was about to say something else when Darren felt something press against his back and whirled around grabbing the culprit's wrist. It was Erik, putting a 'kick me' sign on his back,

"Seriously. What are you… _two?"_ Darren hissed, twisting his wrist a little bit too hard causing him to cry out,

"Darren let him go," Lydia said sternly. Darren glared at her and let out a snort but complied, pushing Erik away from him with a little more force than necessary. Erik fell on his butt for the second time that night right in front of Derek who glared at him,

"Leave him alone!" he snapped before football tackling Darren. He did not expect this. Maybe they devised this so that he'd get in trouble but Darren would not let Derek win this fight in any way. He flipped them around midair so that he landed on top of his 'brother' and pulled his fist back for a punch. It would probably feel good to get a few hits in. Both Erik and Derek had tormented Darren since he was a sad and scared little boy of five and he'd never been allowed to fight back or have anything done about their ways. He got two hits in before Shepard grabbed him by the collar of his suit and hoisted him off and away from Derek. His expression was thunderous. Lydia was doting on Derek, who had a bloody nose, stroking his hair and pressing another napkin to his nose to stop the bleeding,

"That's enough! Leave until you cool down," he pushed Darren in the direction of the balcony and then turned back to Bruce Wayne,

"Sorry about that…" whatever lies Shepard spun off to make Darren look bad faded into the background as he hurried to the double doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please please leave a comment! I know it's a little soon in the story to saay anything about it but anything good or bad is great!


	4. Chapter 4

Darren let the cool night air wash over him, the wind rustling his hair as he leaned on the railing of the stone balcony. The noisy ballroom a few feet away yet it was mercilessly silent. It was stifling in there anyway and he was away from the Powers, who brought out the worst in him. He was happy to be out, he didn't want to be near them. Every time he gets sent back to them it reminds him of how much he hates them. He may hate the Court more but he could stand them…he could survive them, not the Powers who scoff at everything he does or pick on him or just pretends he doesn't exist because he's expendable to them. The only reason they agreed to take him in for the Court's deceit was because their Grandmaster made them. Not many of the higher up Gotham families were members or completely loyal or something of the sort. The Powers were the only ones trusted with the task of keeping Darren invisible yet still known to the public,

"It's stifling in there isn't it," a voice in the shadows said. Darren's head shot up and he glanced around looking for its source, "Up here novice," there was only one person who still called him that,

"Malik?" Darren questioned, looking up at the roof,

"Who else?" was the reply,

"Why are you here?"

"Keeping an eye on your bony ass,"

"Again… _why?"_

"Orders are orders," Malik replied smugly,

"What does the Court think I'll do? Run off with some other rich family?" Malik was silent for a moment,

"I don't know," was all he said, which meant that of course he knew why they were watching him,

"Does this have anything to do with turning me into a Talon?" Darren demanded,

"No, not that I know of. Personally I don't know what they're waiting for. It's a waste of training if you can fight but not control your strength and speed. Plus your hearing will be wanky for at least a few weeks before you get used to it. You'd be useless even if you are turned older,"

"Great, thanks for that. I have so much to look forward to," Darren muttered, "I don't like it that you're here,"

"Well that makes two of us,"

"Then leave,"

"I can't abandon my post, I am here for a reason,"

"And that reason is?"

"None of your—," Malik cut himself off, something had caught his eye, "Dammit," he snarled before leaping down next to Darren on the balcony,

"What are you—,"

"—shut up. We're heading back to the Nest, now,"

"What no! I need to go back inside. People know I'm here!"

"That's not going to matter in a minute," Malik stated, "Get to the ground now or so help me I'll toss you to it myself,"

"Malik I'm not—," Darren stopped talking as the sound of a car rumbling up the drive reached his ears, "What is that?" he asked. Instead of answering Malik grabbed him and hoisted him over his shoulder before leaping over the railing and onto the stone ground below,

"Hey! Put me down!" Darren yelled. Malik none too gently put him on his feet before grabbing him by the arm—causing a sharp intake of breath, it was his bad arm—and pulling him close against the wall, a hand over his mouth. The sound of a door slamming…no multiple doors slamming…could be heard around the corner of the building, as well as heavy equipment being brought out and guns being checked and bullets put in the chamber,

"Easy in easy out. We find what we're looking for and then leave. Boss's orders. No killing unless we have to," someone said into the night. Darren clawed at Malik's hand, but the Talon's grip just tightened. He needed to warn the people inside, they were going to be attacked. Darren kicked Malik in the shin, knowing he wouldn't feel it, but his body would react. Even so it didn't make him let go,

"You give me no choice Darren," Malik growled in his ear as he hit a pressure point, leaving Darren to darkness before he could even make a sound.

* * *

Dick's mind was reeling. He had a relative. A _living_ relative, a _breathing_ relative…who was living with a _horrible_ family. After the scuffle between 'siblings' Mr. and Mrs. Powers wandered off, once again completely blissful despite the fight between their charges, leaving just Dick and Bruce to talk about what they'd just learned,

"Can you believe it Bruce?" Dick stated, "He's a Crowne. A Crowne, my…uh…second cousin I think. That's incredible…I thought I had no other relatives left,"

"He's your _half_ -second cousin," Bruce corrected, smiling lightly, "He's probably from the legitimate Crowne line,"

"Like I care about that," Dick muttered,

"Everyone else here does," Bruce countered, "For all intensive purposes you aren't a Crowne, even if Amelia was your ancestor, William was your great-grandfather, not Philip Crowne. Which is why we didn't reveal that information after we discovered it ourselves. The media circus that would come from that would've been hell to deal with and not compatible with our true night lives,"

"Again, I don't care. I didn't even really want all of Gotham to know. What do we know about him though?" he asked,

"Not enough," a new voice said. It was Tim, he'd appeared out of nowhere by Dick's elbow,

"You met him too?" Dick said, "Can you believe it?"

"I have and yes, it's very exciting for you Dick," Tim replied, holding a tablet in his hands, "he has an incredible sweet tooth from what I can tell,"

"Something you have in common," Bruce muttered, earning a glare from Dick, "I told you not to bring that down here," Bruce then growled at the younger boy,

"Oh like you care about your reputation as a father," Tim replied rolling his eyes,

"Touché," Bruce allowed,

"You were saying?" Dick asked,

"Well his name is Darren Jacob Crowne, born October thirty-first. His mother was killed in a car crash when he was five and he's been with the Power's ever since,"

"Cool! Halloween birthday!" Dick exclaimed,

"What about his father?" Bruce asked,

"Nothing…which is odd," Tim replied, "even on the birth certificate there's nothing…or maybe his mother kept the real one and switched it with a fake…it's a head scratcher that's for sure,"

"I find it odd that you stalk random socialites for fun," another new voice stated,

"Hey Dami," Dick said, ruffling his younger brother's hair, causing the said brother to emit a growl, "We're not stalking, we're gathering information. This is my cousin we're investigating here,"

"And why would you need to do that for. He has a family, a rich one at that,"

"Well I need to know if he's happy. The Powers aren't the nicest people and their money isn't entirely clean and hard earned,"

"Like that would impact an adopted child," Damian growled,

"I've also looked for his boarding school…there's nothing. It's like it doesn't exist,"

"Well that's a red flag if I've ever heard one," Dick muttered, "I swear Smeltings Prep was a real place or I at least read about it somewhere,"

"Wait…Smeltings? Darren said it was called—," whatever Tim was about to say was cut off by the doors to the ballroom being battered down,

"Just one quiet night, is that too much to ask for?" Dick muttered, looking up at the ceiling in exasperation as all hell broke loose. Bruce sighed and put his glass down as the goons with guns strolled in, telling everyone to 'sit down and be quiet or there'll be trouble.' Dick rolled his eyes as he turned to face the gunmen, and comply. So did Tim and Damian even if they wanted to launch themselves into battle. They've been through this so many times it was an almost scripted performance.

Bruce remained standing and faced the leader of the pack, a sharp glare on his face. Not Batman level glaring, just Bruce Wayne's 'this was a private party you totally barged into, you need to leave' level of glaring,

"I don't know why you're here but there's no need for—," Bruce started but was interrupted,

"We're not here for you Rich Boy, sit your ass down…before I make you,"

"Then what are you here for?" he asked,

"Down! Now!" was all the gunman snapped, pointing the gun at his head,

"Bruce," Dick muttered, looking at his adoptive father. He put on a concerned face, but in reality, he was just annoyed. It was his one night off and he had to deal with this? Of all things? He had just found out he had a living relative—who was _nowhere_ in sight. Dick searched, trying to find that mop of dirty blond hair, only to find none. Worry built. He was not going to lose his cousin after just finding him. He was still outside, on the balcony. Had he heard the shouting? Dick rose slightly into a crouch and started to move towards the balcony doors,

"Dick, what are you doing?" Tim hissed, watching the gunmen as they moved through the crowds. They weren't even taking jewelry…though he did see one of the goon's pocket whatever the people had dropped in their panicked states. They really were looking for something other than riches. Also, the others that came with the two leaders were walking around awkwardly, jerking to one side or the other randomly. It was odd,

"Dick, you are a _civilian,"_ Bruce hissed as Dick moved closer to the doors. He ignored Bruce and continued in his slow crouch like method to the doors,

"Hey! What do you think you're doing!" a sharp voice snapped, a gun went off and a bullet struck the ground right by his feet. _This guy's a good shot_ Dick thought as a bunch of people screamed. One woman even fainted. Dick glanced around until he found the Powers all grouped together. Lydia had her arms around her sons' shoulders, but no Darren in sight. They didn't even seem concerned, though they kept exchanging glances with each other,

"Hey! I'm talking to you. What. Do. You. Think. You're. Doing?" the lead gunman growled in his face, the assault rifle positioned squarely at Dick's forehead. The guys voice sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. Dick thought for a moment, glancing briefly at Bruce who looked like he was about to jump in front of Dick and the gunman. It was nice to know Bruce was concerned about him, but at the same time he knew that Bruce knew he could handle himself and that the concern in his gaze was just for the witnesses and the cameras that have no doubt been pulled out and hidden, filming this whole catastrophe,

"Um…trying to get help," Dick said smiling and shrugging. The goon stared at him for a moment before gesturing to two goons,

"Open the doors. He knows someone's out there," _Dammit, they're actually smart,_ Dick thought,

"Seriously?" Dick stated, "That's preposterous!"

"Better safe than sorry," growled the goon as they pulled the doors open to reveal—nothing. No one was there. Dick was sure that's where Darren had gone…given there were multiple balconies coming from the ballroom…but that's the one he was sure his cousin had gone to, "Eh, looks like no ones there. Look out the other ones! I don't want any surprises. As for you…" the guy said, eyeing Dick again, "Thanks for the tip," he snarled before snapping the end of his gun at Dick's head. He wasn't expecting it and dropped like a stone, blackness engulfing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter! Any questions, comments and or concerns please let me know and I'll try to answer them in the endnote of the next chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

Darren woke with a gasp. The back of his neck throbbing along with his still healing dislocated shoulder. The knife wound from William didn't hurt as badly as it did that day before, which would be nice for training. With a groan he sat up and scrubbed a hand over his face,

"Malik, wherever you are…know that you are an asshole," he muttered to himself. It was now that he desperately wished he had a phone or a tablet or a computer with him. He really wanted to know what happened at Wayne Manor after he'd been forced to leave. Of course he'd always pickpocket Derek's or Erik's when he was in the Mortal World but they'd always catch him and get Shepard or Lydia to tell William to ruff him up in training.

He couldn't believe Malik did that, took him away from a gala where everyone had seen him just because some gunmen came…in fact he couldn't believe those were his orders. Keep an eye on him and get him away if anything went wrong…what was with that. Did the Talons really think him that incompetent that he couldn't take on armed gunmen on his own? It was ridiculous,

"About time you woke up," a familiar voice snapped from the doorway. Darren didn't even hear it open. Either he was sick or he was still out of it from that harsh training yesterday,

"What the hell was that all about?" Darren demanded,

"Get up," William said, striding into the room. Darren remained in his bed,

"Why did Malik do that?"

"I don't ask Malik why he does anything," William replied, pulling the sheets back for him, "Now get out of that bed and get ready for training. You already missed half of breakfast so if you want some scraps I suggest you hurry,"

"No answer? Seriously? That's all I've ever gotten! Vague answers that have little or nothing to do with what I want or need to know," Darren snapped. William grabbed his arm and tugged him out of bed and pushed him in the direction of the dresser,

"You can complain and get dressed at the same time Darren. Multitask," Darren stumbled into the dresser before he opened it and pulled off the undershirt from when he'd worn the suit,

"Who the fuck undressed me?" he muttered,

"Does it matter?" William asked. Darren wanted to mutter a 'yes' but William interrupted him before he could put in the retort, "Powers wanted the suit back. Something about…burning it?"

"Of course," Darren muttered, rolling his eyes,

"Let me see your shoulder," Darren blinked at William, his training shirt in hand, he said it so abruptly…like a thought or an idea just crossed his mind,

"Why do you care?"

"I do not. I am simply curious," Darren rolled his eyes and unwound the wrap covering his left shoulder as William came closer. Darren shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably before William stepped away,

"Interesting," he muttered, before walking back to the door, "Training is in ten minutes. Eat your fill and be on time for once," Darren turned to raise an eyebrow at William, but he'd already left. Curious Darren when to the one mirror his room had and turned sideways to look for himself. What he saw was…odd. The wound had healed significantly over the past twenty-four hours,

"What the fuck?" Darren muttered, probing the scabbed over wound. It shouldn't be scabbed…Darren probably should've stitched up the wound yesterday that's how deep William threw the dagger—he was the best knife thrower out of all the Talons—yet there it was, healing faster than it should. He quickly pulled his shirt on. It was just too weird. He wasn't going to deal with this…not yet…but what did this miraculous healing mean? His mind flitted back to the chest in William's room…the one he took from Crowne Manor when he'd kidnapped Darren all those years ago…he shook his head. It wouldn't be worth it, he'd get caught. But maybe…just maybe there were valuable documents in there…things about this healing? Darren's father, his address maybe? A map…anything? With a sigh Darren shook his head again and hurried out into the hallway. He'd barely get enough to eat and lunch was a long way away. He needed to hurry.

* * *

Sweat dripped down the sides of Darren's face. He took a shuddering breath as he dodged another swipe by Asher with a sword. He almost laughed at the placement of his friend's feet,

"You're walking on a tightrope man," he said as he dodged again,

"Quit moving so much," Ash growled, his eyes narrowing,

"What was that?" Darren asked, executing an aerial to get on Ash's other side. He struck him in the side with the flat of his own sword causing his friend to stumble slightly and realize he had literally no balance before righting his footing, "That's better," Darren allowed, smirking at him. Asher growled before charging him and tackling him around the waist,

"Hey! Uncalled for!" Darren muttered as they tussled on the floor. Even though Ash was smaller than Darren was, and would in most cases be able to worm his way on top and win their scuffle, Darren was more flexible. He always had been, no idea why but he was and he managed to get an arm around Ash's throat and get him in a leg hold. Bringing his leg back in a painful way with the other arm, "Do you yield?" Ash shook his head…well as much as he could in the headlock…his face was turning red and Darren could see a vein pulsing on his forehead,

"And you called me stubborn," he muttered, chuckling before he was abruptly cut off by someone grabbing him by the back of his shirt and pulling him off of Ash. Someone smacked him on the back of the head,

"This is sword training, not wrestling!" a heavily accented Italian voice yelled,

"He started it!" Darren snapped, pointing at Ash,

"He was bantering!" Ash growled,

"So!" Darren cried, flinging his arms out, only to have it grabbed by the instructor and thrown across the room. He landed hard, the air being knocked out of his lungs,

"Fifty laps around the room. No stopping, then line up with the others. We're going through kill shots today,"

"Great," Darren muttered sarcastically as he started jogging around the room. The instructor made Ash do fifty laps as well only in the other direction so they only crossed paths twice, no talking allowed. But they did make faces at each other as they passed each other, much to the instructor's annoyance. The instructor got back at them by actually keeping count of how many they did.

Darren knew they'd both pay for it when privates rolled around, William knew of their friendship and didn't like it and neither did Ash's mentor Callum, but it had been worth it. They'd been sparring for hours, they were tied on wins and bored out of their minds. They didn't like sword fighting as much as dagger throwing or dual sword training or bo staff training, but they did like it better than calisthenic and conditioning day…that day sucked and left everyone tired and too sore to move for privates…even if they had no choice in the matter. Any slacking was rewarded with fierce retribution. Still, having a friend made everything, at least a little bit, worthwhile.

After lining up with the others, Darren made sure to be in the back knowing his turn will be the longest, he noticed that some of the mentors…ancestors really…were there watching. Darren glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, they were overtime which meant no lunch…his stomach grumbled mournfully at him,

"Here," Ash said, slyly handing him a slab of bacon, "You did it for me way back when, the least I can do is return the favor," Darren nodded his thanks as he tore into the food, only briefly wondering when, where and how he had hidden the food the whole time of training. But he didn't question his friend, Ash became a mastermind when it came to hiding and storing food after a few years in the nest,

"What happened last night?" Ash asked, "I had been attempting to raid the kitchens when I saw Malik carry you in. Were you attacked?" Darren narrowed his eyes at the thought of last night before whispering,

"I was attacked by _Malik_. I don't know what happened but first, we were talking and then he was saying we needed to leave all because of a bunch of gunmen coming down the road to raid the party. I refused to leave—people knew I was there, mysteriously vanishing would be too odd even for socialites—he then knocked me out and I woke up here,"

"Weird," Ash whispered back, facing forward quickly as his turn came up. Darren shoved the last of the bacon in his mouth before looking at the 'dummy' in front of him. It was actually a Talon who'd probably done something wrong like miss his target at the first go or had to chase him or her for a while and was receiving his mild punishment. It was meant to be humiliation, getting 'killed' by the youngsters, but since Talons don't feel pain it was really just to annoy that Talon. The instructor for the day tossed him a dagger, Darren caught it on instinct by the hilt and twirled it in his hand before facing the 'target,'

"Kill him," the instructor said,

"Ugh, here we go again," a girl, probably Sophie, to the side muttered,

"Let me get this straight, you want me," he pointed the dagger at himself, "To throw this dagger at this guy?" he pointed the dagger at the Talon standing there waiting for another blow,

"Darren," the instructor hissed, "Do it,"

"Why?"

"Hesitation will kill you,"

"I'm already marked for death, what does that matter for me in the future,"

"Help would be on the way for the target,"

"It'll help with the fear factor. I'd disappear, make the help believe the person's insane and then I'll let that target slowly think that as well,"

"That implies you'll kill them in the future. Do it now or so help me—,"

"—Darren," it was William, he stepped forward anger on his face, "Do it, now. This is idiotic,"

"You can't make me! This is the one thing _I_ get to decide in and I don't care what _you_ do to _me_ , I won't do it," Darren growled. Usually, this was when they gave up and told everyone to leave and then William will beat him up a bit before training started for them and he'd hold him late to try and get him to miss dinner—something Darren hated—but this time William only smiled,

"Oh yes I can get you to do it," William said, brushing some invisible dust off his shoulder, "You may not care what we do to _you_ …but to the others that is a whole different story," William reached out, fast as a viper, and grabbed Ralph— one of the youngest in their year—by the arm and pulled him close and placed his own dagger to the kid's throat,

"What are you—," Darren started, dread building up deep in the pit of his stomach,

"—do the killing strike or I kill this boy," William interrupted, "And _leave_ him dead. No resurrection for him. I will do it to each and every one of you in this year group until you do it," Darren could feel the eyes of everyone on him, the narrowed, angered eyes,

"You're bluffing. They're other Talons' descendants, they need them,"

"I am not bluffing," William sneered, "There are always more street rats to take off the streets. More people no one cares about. I will kill each and every one of these Talons-to-be and it will be _easy_. And it will be _your_ fault for not acting," Darren and William glared at each other from across the room, William's dagger glinted sharply in the light…everyone silent around them,

"Darren…" Ash murmured. Darren kept his glare on William, he eyed the dagger,

"Tick tock Darren. You are running out of time," the kid William held let out a small whimper. He was trying to be brave…they all were when faced with the threat of death. But this was different. This was the threat of not coming back. This was the threat of being forgotten…and Darren…he didn't want to be forgotten. He wanted to be known…and he bet that kid and everyone else in their group wanted to live and be known and to do something as well. Many were descendants and some were street rats. Left to fend for themselves, left to survive with no one knowing of just the accomplishment of that. They wanted a purpose, and as twisted as the Court was…this gave them a purpose…and Darren was spoiling it for them, he was robbing them of their purpose. And he couldn't have that…he wouldn't destroy all their hard work and their future. Without taking his eyes off William and the boy Darren threw the dagger in his hand. There was a squelching noise and that was when he looked to see his dagger embedded in the Talon's throat, right where he'd aimed it in his head. Blood gushed out around the blocked wound. The Talon pulled it out and tossed it on the floor. His wound healing,

"Now Darren. Was that so hard?" William asked as he slit the boy's throat,

" _No_!" Darren shouted, "You said….you said only if I didn't do it!"

"Next time do not _hesitate_. Do not think. Do not even blink Darren. Do it, and that will not happen," William growled, "Dismissed," he growled for the instructor. Everyone left, eyeing the dead boy on the way out. Darren could feel the glares of the others as they passed by him. William turned to the boy's ancestor,

"Have him turned. He deserves a chance to be a Talon for serving me in getting my heir to cooperate. I think Darren has learned his lesson," William said as the guy picked up his descendant, "Have you not boy?" he growled stalking towards Darren. He didn't say anything as William grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the nearby wall,

"I do not know what has caused you to believe yourself so privileged to think you get to decide what you can and cannot do while here with us, and I do not care what excuse you pull out of your ass to support that bland theory, but I will make one thing clear…you obey. You obey or so help me I will kill you and leave you for dead,"

"I don't think I'm privileged. I think I'm rather the opposite,"

"Well too bad. If only my _other_ heir had joined me, you and your mother would have been home free of this life," William sneered. Darren jolted back, his head clacking into the wall,

"Your what!" William smirked before letting him drop to the ground, "Your _what!"_ he said again. Anger flared, how could this have fallen on him. Who got to be free while he was stuck in this hellhole,

"I can see you shaking with anger. Good. Use it. Fight with it. _Kill_ with it," William looked almost proud and that calmed Darren down. Darren didn't want to give the guy the satisfaction of getting under his skin,

"Who is he?"

"Could be a he…could be a she. Maybe if you are more cooperative, I will give you their name," Darren knew William was baiting him, only holding this information over his head to get him to kill…to get him used to killing…but being robbed of a normal life, that weighed more on his scale right now. His anger towards that unknown person was more important than his morals…at least he thought it was. Maybe it was wrong…maybe he shouldn't have let William goad him, but Darren's hand closed around the hilt of the sword strapped to his back. With a snarled, he drew it and advanced on William. Vengeance in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter and thanks as always for reading!! Please Please Please leave a comment or two to let me know how I'm doing!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Here's the next chapter

Dick woke with a start, his head throbbing as he sat up pushing back the thin sheets on one of the medbay cots in the Batcave. With a groan he moved to get to his feet only to be stopped by Alfred,

"Don't even try it, Master Dick," the butler said, "I need to make sure you don't have a concussion,"

"I'm fine Alfie," Dick muttered, rubbing his head. But still Alfred insisted on doing a checkup. Tim wandered in at some point with an ice pack, which Dick gladly took while listening to Alfred's instructions and pokes and prods. Once he wrapped up Damian and Bruce wandered in,

"Why did you take me down here?" Dick asked,

"Tim wanted to view the security feed. Since they managed to get past the front gate when it was locked and alarmed so easily we thought it better that you were down here rather than upstairs in case whoever they were decided to come back," Bruce replied,

"And why would they come back?"

"They were obviously looking for someone, not a thing," Damian stated, "That much was clear, they didn't try to rob us,"

"How did they even know who they were looking for was at our party specifically? I mean our party wasn't the only party going on tonight,"

"It is odd," Bruce stated, "Most robberies are exactly that, a robbery. This is something else,"

"Yeah…it is very something else," Tim said from the main computers, "Check this out," he said gesturing for them to come over,

"What did you find Timbo?" Dick asked, ruffling his little bro's hair,

"Don't do that," he snapped quietly before continuing, "Look at the guys in the back of the group as they enter," they watched as he rewound the feed and let it play normally. In black and white, they saw the two leaders in the front kick the door down and the other follow. Dick tried to see whatever Tim had seen but he was coming up blank,

"I don't actually see what you're getting at. It might be the mild concussion, but…yeah…I got nothing,"

"They twitch and spark as they pass through the door," Bruce stated, "Almost like they're glitching,"

"They're robots," Damian muttered, "Patchwork robots if they're glitching so much. Someone must've put them together in a hurry,"

"The two at the front are actual people. The other goons are not," Tim stated,

"Who do we know that uses robots?"

"I think we should start with who those two goons in the front are,"

"I can't get facial recognition to work on them. Not only are they wearing masks but they never look directly into the camera,"

"Keep looking through the feeds, maybe you can find something," Bruce said,

"I've been doing that…but I did find something else that was weird,"

"What's that?"

"For the outside cameras, I went to look…you know because Darren was supposedly out there when the thugs barged in…but we're missing the video from those cameras. At all angles too. Someone deleted them,"

"How could they do that? Did we get hacked?"

"Not exactly. It was more like someone plugged their computer…or tablet…or phone really…into the camera and erased any number of frames they wanted to do,"

"Are you suggesting Darren did this?" Dick asked, raising an eyebrow,

"No…not exactly. It's just we don't know him all that well and on top of that, he wasn't here afterward. Darren didn't leave with the Powers. It was just the Mr. and Mrs., Derek and Erik. No one even questioned it,"

"I have the feeling Darren's a bit overshadowed in their family," Bruce said,

"More like purposefully overshadowed," Damian said, crossing his arms, "I've seen street rats treated better than him,"

"I think that's a gross overstatement but yes. The Powers suck," Tim retorted,

"Shut up Drake,"

"I was _agreeing_ with you!"

"If he wasn't there…where did he go?" silence filled the cave. Only the screeching of bats filling the void,

"Did you guys see him wince at all?" Tim asked a pregnant pause followed,

"…Yeah. He tried to hide it. Right shoulder," Dick said frowning, he was feeling rather tired. He better go lie down soon as Alfred told him to,

"You don't think they're hurting him…do you guys?" Tim asked softly,

"I don't know. But I have a feeling we should find out what is going on and how best to handle this if that is the case. I don't like that he's with the Powers. They are not known for their kindness and I know for a fact that the Crownes were never friends with the Powers before," Bruce stated,

"Did you know his mom?" Tim asked,

"Not very well. Her father traveled a lot and took her with him. When he died…probably not to long after Darren was born…she spent most of her time away from the public. I knew she was in a car crash almost ten years ago, but I thought her son perished as well,"

"Isolated herself did she?" Tim asked frowning as if a thought dawned in that smart brain of his,

"We need to figure out where he went…and how, if we need to, to get him away from the Powers. I don't trust them to keep a watchful eye on them,"

"And why would they need to do that?" Damian demanded,

"Since the Night of Owls much of the Court is still unknown and unaccounted for…including William Cobb, your great-grandfather," Bruce stated seriously,

"Are you saying he might go after Darren?" Dick asked, suddenly very awake and alarmed,

"I think they already have," Tim said softly,

"What?" Dick asked stunned, his insides turning to lead. No, no, no, no, _no_. They couldn't have. Not his cousin…not when he'd just found him,

"Think about it. He's never around. We didn't even know about him until tonight. He's been injured recently and plays it off like it's nothing. Additionally, he randomly disappeared tonight and to top it all off, his mother died _almost ten years ago._ His grandfather dies a year and a half after Darren is born…if this obituary is correctly dated…and Amanda, his mother, holes herself away from society. Like she's afraid of something…or _someone._

"When Darren's almost five there's a horrible accident killing his mother. No relatives to take him in and he's given over to the most horrible and cruelest people known to Gotham other than half it's villainous population, because of some will his mother supposedly left,"

"Perfect opportunity for the Court and the Powers to strike a deal. Especially since Cobb is looking for an heir because he lost his other one to a trapeze accident some years before," Damian stated, "Darren was born a year after your parents died. He was the spare, but apparently he became the heir,"

"I—I can't believe this," Dick said, his head was throbbing badly now, it felt like the room was spinning,

"Uh…Dick. Here take the chair. You look like you're going to pass out," Tim said swiftly standing up and guiding Dick to the console's chair,

"We'll need to make sure this is true before we take any action," Bruce stated thoughtfully, "Maybe one of you boys could talk to Darren…in private,"

"If he were a Talon…wouldn't he be…you know. Pale and such?" Dick stated hopefully, he'll deny it or falsify it until it's proven true,

"I thought of that too. Their eyes also glow like an animals' when viewed through a camera lens. His eyes didn't do that from the video I managed to get of him before he left the room. So good news is he's not a Talon yet. Bad news is we don't know when or if they plan on turning him into one,"

"We don't even know if he's a part of the Court of Owls," Dick nearly snapped. He was in denial. His little cousin wasn't going to become a Talon because he was too lucky to get out of becoming one and too stubborn to join William. It wasn't fair. Not to Darren. It shouldn't be him,

"Don't beat yourself up Grayson," Damian murmured, giving Dick a light squeeze on his shoulder, almost too low to be heard by Bruce and Tim…almost, "You didn't know,"

"As for how do I know he's apart of the Court of Owls in some way, he kind of gave me the answer," Tim stated, "I talked to him earlier this evening. You mentioned his school was called Smeltings Prep?"

"Yeah. Well at least that's what Mr. Powers's said," Bruce replied,

"Well…first off. That's the name of a school in a book… _Harry Potter_ to be exact—,"

"—I knew I read that name somewhere!" Dick exclaimed,

"—but Darren told me that his boarding school is called _Atrium Academy,"_

"So?" Dick stated,

"Well first off, he clearly doesn't go to boarding school if that's the kind of lie they're going to try and pull of. Secondly, Atrium means court in Latin. _Court_ Academy?"

"So…did he mean for that to slip…or was it a deliberate plea for help?" Dick asked,

"I don't know. To be honest he seemed taken off guard to be asked that…still. We need to start searching for the new Owls headquarters. They probably changed locations since the Night of Owls,"

"And we need to find a way to talk to Darren again…without anyone getting suspicious,"

"And what can we do? Call up the Powers and invite him over for tea?" Damian snapped. Tim perked up,

"Not exactly. We could invite some of the families from tonight over…for a dinner party or something to apologize for the thugs barging in. And we'd invite the whole family. We met Darren tonight, they'd have to bring him. They'd be against it but because we're Bruce Wayne's sons—,"

"—getting a foot in with the big bad Prince of Gotham would be good for them. Yeah, that sounds like pretty much every socialite in the city," Dick stated,

"Sounds like a plan," Bruce stated grudgingly, "We'll start searching the city for the Court tonight while patrolling. Tell Barbara and Stephanie what's been going on and to help even out the numbers of patrolling and searching. We need to work fast. We don't know what kind of time limit we have."

* * *

"How would you prefer to die?" Darren looked up from the book he was reading in his room an eyebrow raised,

"Quickly," he replied mutely, Ash groaned,

"Not what I meant," his friend jumped up onto his bed and sat cross-legged next to him. Free time was rare but sometimes given when there'd been a good day of training. Darren was being more cooperative now that his year-mates were being used as hostages. He knew William's patience had been thinning for a long while…he just didn't know how much until he'd killed Ralph. Everyone had been hard on him after that. Not just the instructors, but his year-mates too. He didn't blame them…he'd endangered them…even if their life revolved around danger and death. They were threatened with being erased. They had been promised a purpose and if one person ruined it for them they had the right to be mad.

Training had doubled for him since that event. He'd gone to bed sore and tired, the first time in a while. Bruised and bloodied and so shaky that even his little fingers twitched at random times. To be honest most of his injuries were from William…who'd never been one for restraint before…Darren was a pretty decent fighter…now killer apparently. He surprised himself at how easy it was to find openings, to throw right at the target, to swipe an opponent off their feet and into a compromising position on the floor. It surprised him how easy it was to kill…how easy it kept getting…and it also scared him…disturbed him. It felt unnatural yet his instincts yearned for him to do it and that made it easy, made it the first thing he turned to…and he didn't like that. It was getting easier to trick people into lowering their defenses or to make them think they were winning when in actuality they were losing badly.

His acrobatics were getting even better with all the extra training as well. William wasn't holding back with his speed anymore and that forced Darren to up his evading strategies. It was hard training with Talons, he needed to learn how to read people when he had been younger because sometimes they held back with their strength or their speed and never told you which. William found his skill increase with acrobatics amusing for some reason. Either way, Darren was improving much too quickly for his tastes. Usually, he could glide by showing little or none of his skill…but people were hitting harder and wilder…he needed to use every ounce of his skill and willpower to keep from getting seriously injured. They were also taking an unusual amount of interest in him and his training. He knew what was coming…and he didn't like it. He wanted to fight it…but the discovery of another heir gnawed at him. Someone else was supposed to be where he was. They were living life freely while he was stuck down here. Did they even know of Darren…that they shared blood? Did they even care?

Darren shook his head, dispelling all thoughts of that. Just thinking about it made his blood boil in an unfamiliar way. It made his hands twitch for a weapon and his blood rush in his ears. He didn't like it,

"I meant with a sword? A dagger? Poison maybe?" Ash poked Darren in the arm,

"This is the only time we don't have to talk about weapons and murder. Can you please knock it off?" Darren asked,

"Or do you prefer the good ol' snapped neck?" Darren threw his book at Asher,

"Hey!" Ash growled, tossing the book back at him. His face fell as if he remembered something, "Calvin's gone," Darren blinked at him before lifting his book off the covers and placing it on the nightstand,

"We knew he'd leave sooner or later,"

"But that means everyone will be hunting for him…it means that one day _we'll_ be hunting him," Ash looked irked by the thought, "I liked him…he was nicer than the others…he gave me chocolate whenever he came back from hunting!"

"I know," Darren said, "But there's nothing we can do about it. Calvin made his choice,"

"What. You don't miss him? I know you wanted him to take you with him, but did you really think that would happen? The head of the Talons' great-grandson supposedly kidnapped by a rogue Talon, you wouldn't have made it ten feet,"

"You really know how to brighten someone's day," Darren muttered,

"Oh don't be like that,"

"I am like this,"

"I have some chocolate!" Asher sing-songed severely off-key. He pulled out a full chocolate bar, he hadn't even opened it yet,

"Where did you get that?" Darren asked, eyeing the candy,

"I may or may not have stolen it from Ralph's secret stash," Darren frowned even more. Ralph was still adjusting to being a Talon. The extra senses were still messing with him, he'd throw up whatever he ate because the overload of taste he was receiving. The strength and speed were also giving him some problems…but he was alive—well undead—he was a Talon now…just what he wanted to be. That didn't mean he liked Darren any more. He wasn't supposed to be a Talon until all the year-mates were deemed ready to become one and even though he was probably secretly glad he was the first of them turned, how he was turned wouldn't leave his memory for quite a while. Darren knew he had to watch his back with him, "Want some?"

"Of course I—," Darren was cut off by William storming into his room,

"Out!" he barked at Ash, and the younger boy scampered off Darren's bed, around William and out the door. William looked livid. That made Darren nervous. What made him even more nervous was that William closed the door behind him once Ash had left the room. Darren briefly wished he'd been asked to meet William in his room instead of being embarrassed and surprised by his great-grandfather in his own room.

William's room was pretty much like any other room in the Nest. Only with a lot more weapons and trinkets from over the decades. A pocket watch hung off the bedpost which was from Darren's great-great-grandfather, on Darren's mother's side naturally as Cobb never talked about his parents. William took the watch as a token from when he killed the old man for ruining his first life. On the shelves to the left of the bed were other trinkets and a small chest. The chest from Crowne Manor, the one he took when he stole Darren away after his mother had been killed. But he never did make him go there…it was odd, he only did it once. Maybe it was to make Darren feel unsafe in his own room…maybe it was to create a psychological fear. Or maybe it was because after the first time Darren had tried to steal the chest from the room and William didn't trust him anymore or something. It was very unclear. William spoke angrily at Darren, startling him out of his thoughts and memories,

"Who did you speak to two nights ago?" he demanded to know,

"I don't know! Why is that significant?" William let out a growl that was almost animalistic and grabbed Darren by the arm and pulled him off the bed and onto the floor, giving him a hard kick in the side,

"Because who you spoke to has taken an interest in you," William sneered,

"How so?" Darren coughed out, scrambling to his feet knowing William would kick him again if he didn't stand and face him,

"They've invited your family to a dinner party,"

"Who invited me to where?"

"The Waynes, whom you spoke to a lot that night,"

"That doesn't imply they're interested in only me!"

"They said the whole family was invited,"

"Again. _So?"_

"They asked specifically when you're next break was from your boarding school. The Powers had to make something up and since you were present two days ago they said all this week. The Waynes said the party was tonight and were glad to know you'd be there for it,"

"Okay…I can see why you're angry about that. But that wasn't my fault. That was drunken Shepard's fault! He used a school name from a _book!_ It was a complete hoax and they caught it!" William grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him into the bedpost behind him,

"Do not blame the Owls _boy_. Yes, I know he used a stupid lie, but to anger them is to make life for us much worse,"

"Okay point taken, no need to slam me into the bed,"

"If only you had known that _before_ you were wincing in pain in front of the others, risking our cover. The Powers complained to the Grandmaster about your inability to hide it, and that you attacked their son. They want you disciplined for that,"

"Well, you shouldn't have dislocated it! Plus Derek and Erik started it," William glared at him and Darren saw his grandfather's fist twitch forward. Darren flinched, raising his arm to block the expected blow, but it didn't come. Instead, William sighed and brought his fist down to his side once again,

"You are lucky you are meant to be somewhere or I would have you wishing you did not say that,"

"Well, it's true. Also, constant injuries will be noticed by people…and eventually the wrong sort of people! And again those two had it coming!"

"Perhaps that is true. But the injuries will not always be a problem. And I do not care about your stupid spats with the Powers's ilk. Even so, be careful what you say tonight or you will regret it,"

"I'm sure you have some horrible grueling punishment already planned for when I get back after all the Grandmaster did want me 'disciplined'" Darren muttered rolling his eyes,

"Oh I do not, the Grandmaster does though. He assigned it to you himself. Three days in Blackout," William said smugly. Darren felt a chill down his spine at the sound of that,

" _No_. Please not _that,_ " he said softly,

 _"What_ was that?" William snapped, eyes narrowed. Darren swallowed and took a small deep breath. William hated whimpering or whining,

"N-nothing," Darren replied, "Can I leave now?"

"Sure. Whatever," William said dismissively. Darren hurried away to and found Malik to take him to the car and then to the dinner party. He couldn't believe they were putting him in blackout just because the Powers complained about his acting skills—well and attacking their sons. It wasn't his fault..it was just them, making his life miserable because they could. They've always hated the Crownes, the family was higher up on the social scale than the Powers, he'd inherit all that when he was older…if he could still be seen in society after he was turned, it all depended on where the mutated veins formed after people were turned…by him living with them they could probably claim some of that fortune, but not all of it…not if he was still alive to the public.

They went out of their way to make him feel worthless and to make sure he suffered for the littlest of things…and a blackout…that was almost as bad as being put in cold storage. They'd lock you in a pitch-black stone room...more like a hole in the wall. No light whatsoever…no sound either. Just cold stone floors and walls and nothing to see with…it was suffocating and terrifying at the same time. The longest Darren's ever been in was for a day…three days would seem like a lifetime…he hated it in there. The only light source would be from the small window in the door bringing them food and water…the only good part was no training…but it was still pretty awful. Just thinking of that small little dark room made Darren's heart beat faster…now more than ever he wished this night would never end…and that he'd been brave enough to try and escape as Calvin had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!!!


	7. Chapter 7

The Powers smirked at Darren when he'd arrived. They knew Darren was to be punished once he returned to the Nest, the thought of which twisted his stomach in discomforting knots, but Darren wasn't going to give them the satisfaction that they had shaken him…even though his hands were trembling as they all walked up the pathway to the front door of Wayne Manor. Several other families had already arrived and were surprisingly kidless. Most of them were younger couples though so it made sense that they wouldn't have kids yet. Bruce Wayne wasn't that old but his kids were all adopted…except for one who glared meaner than Malik did. The said Talon was out and about turning off security cameras so that he could watch Darren and not be seen. Darren didn't like or understand that arrangement…even so it was happening whether he liked it or not,

  
"Hello again," Tim said smiling lightly,

  
"Hi," Darren said. He didn't mean to be short with the guy, but to be honest, he couldn't stop worrying about the Blackout punishment…it was gnawing at his subconscious,

  
"What's wrong? You seem worried about something," Tim asked raising an eyebrow,

  
"It's nothing. Just…tired," he finished lamely as he took his seat. It seemed there was an adult section of the large dining room table and a kid section. That was good because it kept Darren away from Lydia and Shepard's glares, but bad news because it meant he'd have to deal with Derek and Erik kicking him under the table and unscrewing the salt tops or pulling his chair out from under him…and apparently Darren couldn't do anything about it without the Powers _complaining_. Dick, Tim, and Damian sat across from him in a row as the food started to be served and conversation rang with the clank and sloshing of silverware and wine. Darren's stomach rumbled,

  
"Hungry huh?" Tim asked, "Alfred's meals are the _best,"_

  
"I'm sure," Darren replied eyeing the food as it was handed out. He hoped there'd be dessert,

  
"His cookies are amazing too," Dick said, smiling widely. Darren's mouth was probably watering at the mention of cookies and in general the idea of dessert,

  
"Is your boarding school not good with food?" Damian asked bluntly. Darren thought to the mealtimes in the Nest and shrugged,

  
"Most of the time it's good…other times not so much," _like when you have to fight for scraps if you arrive late,_ though Darren kept that to himself, 

  
"Sounds like regular old high school then,"

"Uh…yup…just like high school," Darren replied once more rather lamely, there wasn't much he could reveal. Derek and Erik were snickering and rolling their eyes,

  
"What do you do in your spare time?" Tim asked. Darren stared blankly at the three boys across from him. All lined up like interrogators. Darren mentally panicked…he didn't know what normal kids did for fun…or in their spare time. He barely got that as it was. They didn't have cell phones or tablets or TVs or computers…he wasn't even sure if they had internet in the Nest,

  
"He plays lacrosse," Derek said for Darren. He whipped his head around to look at the other boy. Derek glared at him and Darren faced the others and nodded,

  
"Oh really? What position do you play?"

  
"Goalie," Erik said, "He has very good reflexes. Watch," he flung a pea at Darren with his spoon. Darren caught it, but only barely, he wasn't expecting this. Why were they _helping_ him answer these guys? They wanted him to fail surely…it would be embarrassing if he didn't answer with something normal people do for fun. Putting that aside, Darren quickly realized that being on a school team could be researched and quickly put in a bit to discourage the fact,

  
"That was only a hobby. I don't play anymore. I mostly read…and play chess—,"

  
"—boring things like that," Derek stated,

  
"Tim likes chess. Maybe you two should play sometime," Dick suggested,

  
"Yeah. Maybe," Darren said tightly before digging into his food, silencing all conversation,

  
"Maybe sometime next week?" Tim asked, Darren just kept shoveling food in his mouth. Maybe if he got enough in there he'd choke and someone would have to do Heimlich or call an ambulance and get him out of there,

  
"He can't," Derek said, that stopped Darren from shoving more food in his mouth,

  
"And why can't I?" he demanded to know around the mouthful he'd gotten. Derek looked at him smugly,

  
"Mom didn't tell you? Your class is going on a ski trip. You leave in three days. I figured you would remember, it is a trip you've been waiting for since you started at this school," Derek smirked over at him and Darren's eyes widened at that Cheshire cat grin, he knew what would become of that 'ski trip.' Of course, William would leave that bit out when talking to him earlier that evening.

  
Swallowing the food, Darren put his fork down with a clatter suddenly not hungry…he didn't know why. It was what Darren had been training for. He was always supposed to be a Talon…but why did he _feel_ this way? He'd always been angry at the fact that he didn't get a choice in that matter. Always mad that he was forced to train or face retribution, forced to fight and kill and there was nothing to change that…but all the same, it was the only life he knew. The only thing Darren knew: how to fight and how to kill. Sure he'd been raised five years in the mortal world but after almost ten years and that's all a blur. He barely remembered his mother's face. The thought depressed Darren further, resignation and melancholy taking over. Darren wasn't ready. He didn't want to be a Talon, he'd known that for a while…but now with the threat of being turned so soon, it intensified into panicked fear and a strong need to get out of the whole predicament…yet there was nothing he could do. There was no escaping the Court. Unless Darren's thoughts rushed back to Calvin. He'd left the Nest. He'd abandoned the Court…and he still hadn't been caught. It was possible to run away from it all…but if the Court had plans for Darren…it would be impossible to escape—at least without a plan,

  
"What's the matter? You don't like skiing," Dick asked, he looked concerned,

  
"More like he doesn't like the snow," Erik said, Darren glared at him,

  
"It's not that, it's just…I've never done it before,"

  
"Oh…um…well you'll learn quickly. It's…fun," Tim said, he seemed at a loss for words and Dick looked downright worried. That made Darren suspicious…were they getting more out of this conversation that he thought they were? A rambunctious laugh from the head of the table caused his head to jerk towards it to see Bruce on his fifth glass of wine already. Darren shook his head, _they're just rich socialites like the rest of them, I'm getting too paranoid,_

  
"I'm sure I will," Darren replied, tucking into his food again, eager to get out of this conversation again. They talked amongst themselves after that, often in a different language which annoyed Darren, but he paid it no mind. They tried to ask him more questions but he only vaguely answered them or shoved food in his mouth or even tried to talk to Erik and Derek. Darren just wanted to enjoy his last amazing meal before getting locked into Blackout.

* * *

Darren returned to the Nest that night and was shoved into the small dark room that was Blackout. His eyes wouldn't adjust, Darren knew they wouldn't and he fought back the panic that came with suddenly being virtually blind. Instead of succumbing to that panic Darren sat down and stretched out his legs. They reached the wall opposite him, the stone hard and cold underneath him. It had barely been a minute and he already felt like he was suffocating. But Darren needed to remain level headed. This room was meant to break him, that's the purpose of it. Some people went mad in this room, but Darren wouldn't. He would plot and think and remain calm…even if he was terrified of this room. Even if it felt like his senses had abandoned him and he was numb to everything. No sound came through the walls, no feeling but the stone floor underneath and around him. No sight, not even Darren's hand in front of his face. His heart kept pounding, faster and faster as his fear grew…but also Darren's resolve. Three days. Three days of this and then he was escaping. He would not become a Talon. It was high time Darren took his life in his own hands and did what _he_ wanted to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I also hope you are all trying to stay safe and healthy during all this virus chaos!
> 
> Review Review Review!!!


	8. Chapter 8

The three days passed surprisingly quickly. Darren had spent most of his time sleeping, planning and trying to keep his mind off the darkness. He'd snap his fingers to create sound, to keep him from being completely void of his senses. Most of the time Darren slept, it was great to be able to sleep so much, but where he was made it difficult to discern nighttime from daytime. People who were truly blind had a similar issue…but they usually also had their hearing and a sense smell to balance that out, Darren didn't have that. He'd tried asking the Talon who would give him some food what time of day it was—a meager piece of bread and some water, people receiving punishments didn't get the meals the others got—the guy hadn't answered him which was super annoying.

The time Darren wasn't sleep was spent planning. And boy did Darren have a nearly impossible plan. It involved theft, skipping lunch and possibly murder…but Darren was okay with all that, or at least most of all that. Locked away in the meeting room, where the Talons confer with the Grandmaster and the rest of the Court, were Serum daggers. To keep any possibility of their Talon assassins from rising up against them they created the Serum. It was the opposite of the Electrum that revived them, gave them extended life, strength, speed, and enhanced senses.

The Serum killed them. It dissolves the necrotic tissues and uses the Electrum in their veins as a quickening agent to kill the Talon. Even though it can kill them, at certain concentrations it will only inflict pain, at higher concentrations it will kill. Deserters—and there are some that do want to and manage to escape—are usually tortured with Serum dipped blades before being terminated. Punishments for Talons not executing an order properly or not killing a Target on the first try or raising suspicion are usually given lashes with a Serum stained whip. The wounds eventually heal, but slowly. They're a reminder at what's at stake. Their purpose and their life. The Serum daggers are kept locked away tightly. Only the Grandmaster had a key to the box, but if Darren is quick enough he can pick the lock and steal one of the daggers. Of course it will set off an alarm and cause the compound to go into lockdown. The meeting room isn't near the doors leading outside to the gate but if Darren is fast enough and if other Talons don't get in his way, he'll be able to escape. He'd have the means to protect himself and kill any Talon that comes after him too. Everyone would be distracted looking for whoever stole the dagger, because it was a threat to everyone there, that Darren could walk right out before there was a complete lockdown. They'd only know he was missing later…after he was long gone.

But where would he go? That puzzled Darren. He had nowhere to go. Not to the Powers, not to his old home…so where? He could probably find Calvin and get some advice from him…or travel with him wherever he went to, or Darren could try and find his father. Or…or maybe find his relative. The one who didn't get chosen for this life…or at least got out of it. Maybe they would accept him and maybe Darren's anger at them won't get the best of him…maybe they'd be friends…maybe…if he could understand how they got out of living the life Darren had, he could forgive them or try to find common ground. Even if Darren got out, finding where he could go was a big issue…but getting out was the main objective and he would leave no matter what happened or where he went next.

* * *

Once Darren was let out he stumbled back to his room, eyes closed due to the sudden exposure to light before trying to let them adjust. He stretched his stiff arms and legs and flopped down on his bed, trying to relish in the feeling of an actual mattress underneath him. He knew it wouldn't last. Darren would be gone before he'd get to use it again. They were going to turn him that night. He knew it, they knew it, but they didn't know Darren was going to run. Taking a deep breath he pulled out the ratty old backpack he'd had since he was little. It had been bigger than him at the time. William had shoved it into his arms and told him to pack some clothes in it. Darren had snuck in some toys and stuffed animals—William had scared him, and he wanted something to comfort him. Since Darren's mother wasn't there anymore, stuffed animals would have to do—William took them from Darren the moment he found out he'd had them. But he gave back the backpack and Darren had kept it. He shoved some shirts and pants in there as well as the one sweatshirt he owned—most of what he had was training gear—shoved on his shoes—a ratty old pair of sneakers he wore to the Mortal World—and finally grabbed his meager candy stash. He was not leaving that to the mercy of Asher, even if there were only three KitKats and a Twizzler.

Darren hoisted the pack onto his back and made his way through the maze of hallways that was the compound. They were back by some of the abandoned warehouses in the warehouse district of Gotham. A 'sort of' island connected to the rest of the city by a bridge. No one was allowed there due to a toxic waste leakage that contaminated the area or something false the Owls put up to keep curious civilians and City officials away. They built the compound in secret, burrowing into the ground when it suited them and have used it for training since the beginning of the Talons. Originally the Talons, as well as the Owls who led the Organization, operated out of Harbor House, an old mansion that was in the Court's possession. But after the Night of Owls, they moved back to the old compound.

Darren finally made it to the meeting room, now used by the Owls since Harbor House became compromised. He took a deep breath. The door was unlocked and there were no security cameras inside. No one could know what occurred throughout the Owls' sessions, only the Master Talons were allowed to participate and nothing was recorded to protect the secrets uttered within that meeting room. Cameras could be hacked so they were not utilized, but that didn't mean the room didn't have eyes on it at all times. Even so, Darren pushed open the door and stepped into the darkroom. Rows and rows of seats surrounded the pathway down to the center of the room where the Grandmaster's podium stood. Seats rose above on a balcony seating and Darren could almost imagine the porcelain owl masks glaring down at him. Swallowing thickly, Darren continued to where the podium was and opened the cabinet hidden in the stand. Inside were the five serum daggers, encased and locked within a class case. There were more Serum daggers hidden away in the weapons room but these were closer and made more of a statement when stolen as they were the most potent of the weapons besides the weapons room was actually secure with cameras and guards. Darren carefully removed his lock picking tools from his back pocket and started fidgeting with the lock, he could break the glass but that would lead to blood and noise and a trail of blood leading out of the room that could be followed. It took longer than Darren thought it would. Ralph had always been the best at it, too bad he wasn't on Darren's side. Finally, the locking mechanism clicked and opened, immediately the alarm sounded. It activated if the case wasn't opened by the one and only key that worked. The alarm was loud and blaring. Panicking, Darren swiped a dagger, slid it in a belt loop on his pants and sprinted out the door and down a corridor to his left just as a bunch of Talons raced by. All yelling and pushing each other forward.

People—Talons and Talons-to-be alike—raced by and around Darren as he tried to run against the current. He should have taken a different path, the flood of determined and panicked assassins was almost as savage as a stampede. Talons ran by armed to the teeth, eyeing the ceilings and windows as if expecting an attack. Darren would have found it amusing if he wasn't so terrified. He finally cleared the main hallways and was heading towards the main door when someone bumped into Darren's shoulder and on impulse, he turned towards the person to snap at them. Almost as if in slow motion, everything happened all at once. It was Ash, and his friend looked at him too. He looked as if he were about to tell him to hurry and get to the main training room like drilled but then his eyes darted to the knife swinging around in Darren's terrible makeshift scabbard. His eyes bugged and Ash looked up at Darren, hurt and fear in his face. Darren frowned tightly at him before turning away, not before he could miss the pitying face his friend sent him as Darren continued on, sprinting towards the doors.

There were guards. Of course there'd be guards. He needed to get creative. Darren took a piece of candy from his bag and tossed it down the now-empty hall to the right of the door. One Talon went off sprinting in the direction, their sensitive ears hearing the candy bouncing and clanging off of the walls. The other stayed,

"Looks like it's time to see if this dagger really works," Darren muttered to himself…of course, this causes the other Talon to turn and face him but Darren leapt up into the air, flipping over the Talon and grabbing him by the forehead once he landed. He then sliced the Talon's throat. The gargled scream the man let out startled Darren. He let go of the Talon abruptly and watch as he fell to the ground like a sack of bricks, twitching and moaning and choking on his own blood until he fell still. His blood frothing in his mouth, a puddle growing beneath him. Darren's stomach rolled, he couldn't believe how instinctive that was…he hadn't even thought about the consequences of what he was doing. Darren hadn't even thought about the gravity of what he had been about to do…he had just _acted_. Darren stumble-stepped backward his gaze glued to the now-dead Talon knots pulling tightly in his stomach before Darren forcefully spun on his heel and sprinted out the doors and to the gated wall surrounding the compound. The gates were closing and he had to slide under them in order to make it…but in that instance when his feet were under him on the pavement of Gotham City, pounding away as he ran creating more and more distance between himself and the compound. He was free. Darren Crowne was _free_ …a wanted man…but free. Darren smiled as he sprinted down over the bridge and to the bright city before him.

Darren made it about twenty blocks into the city, into the Cherry Hill district, before he vomited what little he had to eat onto the sidewalk. The dying scream of the Talon he killed echoing in his ears as well as the sight of that bloody puddle forming beneath him. Darren didn't think he'd ever close his eyes and not see that dying man. But that Talon was going to kill him, they were all going to kill him. Darren was alive. They had already died, they were technically both alive and dead…they had lived not once but twice and much longer than anyone else on the earth. It wasn't that much of a loss, Darren grimaced at that excuse but while perhaps wrong to think it was still very much true. With a sigh, Darren wiped his mouth and with one last glance back at the blocked-off bridge and the warehouse compound beyond, set off into the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter! Darren is free at last, though I'm sure you're all wondering how long that will actually last. But for now, Darren is finally free. I originally didn't think this chapter was my best but I actually edited it a bit more and now its grown on me. Let me know what you guys all think! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!


	9. Chapter 9

Dick paced back and forth, gnawing on his lip as he did so. They could tell Darren was worried about something, it was in his behavior, in his eyes. He was almost fearful, and that was worth being worked up over. Then Derek mentioned that ski trip and it was pretty obvious what he meant by that. They were going to turn him into a Talon by the end of the week. There might not even be a ski trip and even if there wasn't, it would be easy to fake documents such as a death certificate. They'd done as much when Jason died as Robin. Society would mourn, the Powers get Darren's fortune and the Court gets a Talon. They needed to do something about it but there was nowhere left to look for their base. They've done everything they could to find it,

"It's like they just disappeared," Tim muttered angrily, "We need to find them, we are running out of time. It's been three days. They're turning him today. We are getting nowhere," he leaned over a map of the city pulled up on the holo-desk. Stephanie looked over his shoulder, eyes roaming the circled houses and X-ed out locations,

"I know. I can't believe this is happening," Dick muttered, rubbing his hands with his face. Bruce and Barbara were on patrol, they ran into Jason and told him to keep an eye out for Talons and tail them if he found them. He didn't ask questions or complain or attack them for once. Dick figured he thought the threat of the Court was more important than his desire and joy of getting under Bruce's skin,

"We've followed the schematic of the Harbor House, their first base. Wealthy yet underpopulated area of the city. Big house, capable of housing a lot of people and open to construction when needed. Downwards as well as upwards and nothing has come up,"

"That's because you're thinking the Owls of the Court and the Talons of the Court are the same," Damian stated, "They're not,"

"What do you mean?"

"The Owls are the brains behind the operation, the Talons are the brawn. They're two separate categories—two separate houses," Damian replied, "They used the Harbor House to meet in and plan or strategize, but training and living quarters are different for the Talons. It is how it was between my grandfather and the assassins in the League. I'm betting that's how they think and work,"

"Of course the League of Assassins work like that," Tim muttered, "But that doesn't help us. We only know of Harbor House, we're back to square one…not even that, we're back to square zero,"

"Gotham is big, training that many people can't be easy. They need a location that is isolated, unknown…somewhere no one would expect," Stephanie said, eyeing the map thoughtfully,

"We don't have time for this. We don't have the time before they actually turn Darren into a Talon…we know what that means. We need to act...we need to find _something!"_ Dick snapped,

"Yes…we know," Tim said, "Bruce is keeping his eyes out for anything odd, so is Barbara,"

"Like that will help us find him!"

"We're _trying_ Dick!"

"And we are as worried as you are, really," Stephanie said, "But there isn't much to go on—,"

"—That doesn't mean we give up!"

"We aren't!" Tim snapped, "It's just difficult to locate such a number of invisible people in a city like this. It would need to be somewhere large, a place no one goes to. I know you are worried for Darren Dick, we all are. Yes we know he is your only blood relative left, and we do want to get him out of their clutches as well, but we have no information. Whatever he knows he was too afraid to tell us,"

"He didn't tell us anything because the _Powers_ were there! And on top of that he didn't trust us at all! If we told him who we were—,"

"—He hasn't been out at night at all, he's never hunted for targets with other Talons as far as we can tell. Informing him of our nightly duties would only make him suspicious, or he'd tell Cobb and let them know we're onto them," Tim stated, clearly getting frustrated, "It wouldn't have done anything productive,"

"And sitting around here doing absolutely nothing is?" Dick almost yelled. He knew he was overreacting, but he was high strung right now. He needed to find his cousin, he couldn't fail him…not a second time. If only Dick had paid more attention if only he'd gone to more galas and parties he could have found Darren sooner. Dick shook his head angrily, he couldn't dwell on what-ifs, nor could he be in this cave any longer,

"I'm going out. I'm searching for him and when I find him I'm bringing him back here," Dick stated roughly, marching over to his motorcycle,

"Good luck with that," Tim snarked, "He's a trained assassin Dick, he won't come willingly, not while he still fears the Court,"

"It's not what he wants," Dick snapped back. They were arguing. He had no idea when it turned into an argument…maybe it had always been an argument. It definitely seemed like that. Dick needed and wanted action, Tim needed and wanted planning; the two wants and needs conflicted with each other causing them both to lash out at the other, "He'll come with us." he called, getting in the last word. He revved the engine and started out of the cave, though Tim's echoing response followed him as he left,

"And what will that do?!"

* * *

Darren hurried through the city area. He didn't know where he was going but he needed to go somewhere that was far away. He knew the city like the back of his hand, but he knew that if the Talons realized he was gone they'd be looking for him. Most deserters were hunted down and killed, some were frozen or blackmailed back into service…but most likely you were more harm alive than dead and they'd end you. And not quickly at all…not in the least. Darren shuddered at the thought…but he wasn't going back. Not ever. He didn't want to be a Talon…he didn't want to die. He wanted to live his life freely, he wanted his choices to be his own. He didn't want to be a dagger pointed by someone else. Darren glanced down at the weapon still in his hand, the blood of the Talon he'd killed dried at the point, he gripped it tighter. If he was going to be a dagger, it would be for himself and not for anyone else. Screw serving a higher purpose, if being free meant that he'd spend the rest of his life with a target on his back then so be it, he'd live freely and that's all that mattered. No lies, no secrets, no one forcing him to do anything. Sure he'd hide all his life, look over his shoulder in fear…but he could do whatever he wanted and no one would stop him. Unless he did something illegal…well more illegal than killing an undead assassin…then the police would try to stop him, that is if they could _find_ him.

He turned down a backroad that lead through the darker parts of Crime Alley. Darren would rather head back through the Cherry Hill district and to the Business district of Gotham, where there were more people and even more witnesses to the heir of the Crowne fortune walking around the city but he worried Shepard would see him and report the sighting to the Court…or worse, come after Darren himself. Of course he could fend off the older man himself, but Darren worried he'd end up killing him. Especially based on his instinctual drive earlier that night and he was afraid he'd also enjoy it. He hated Shepard. He'd made Darren's life miserable and treated him like dirt. That kind of hatred over the course of ten years didn't go away in an instant and it certainly would only increase in a fight. And despite Shepard not being entirely out of shape, Darren would win said fight due to his training. He'd fought against Talons, humans were egg-shells compared to them.

Shaking his head Darren turned down another alley, only to spot a group of teenagers, older than him by a few years but not at all adults yet. Rolling his eyes he moved to turn back the way he came, only to be blocked by another teen he didn't realize had been standing at the entrance of the alleyway, waiting for an idiot like him to walk down into their 'trap'. Darren didn't have the eyesight of a Talon, or their hearing, but he figured he would be smarter than he'd just been,

"Let me through," he said as calmly as he could,

"Why should I? We just want to have a chat," the guy said, walking towards Darren, a glint in his eye and a smirk on his face. Him moving forwards forced Darren to move back and end up in the center of the gang's makeshift circle. He almost laughed but thought better of it. Darren didn't know if these guys had guns or any other kinds of weapons, and though the Serum dagger was useless against another Talon at this point Darren didn't want to risk it against normal humans. They were too young to be able to get any weapons on their own, but licenses and IDs were easy to fake, plus with all the crime in Gotham it was easy for kids to get their hands on firearms that their parents bought…although not that many people living in Crime Alley still had parents. The thought was depressing,

"Trust me. You do not want to get me angry," Darren said simply,

"Why? Because you're a rich spoiled brat?" one goon growled,

"You may not be in this city that often but when you are your mug is all over the papers," a different person stated, a slow easy grin on their faces, "Didn't think we didn't recognize you… _Crowne?"_

"I don't have time for this," Darren snapped. A knife flickered into view,

"Do you think if we rough him up the Powers would still pay full price for him?"

"That's up to how much they wuv their precious little boy," another replied, their mocking tone echoing off the brick walls. Darren sighed,

"Well. Don't blame me when you wake up," he said shrugging before launching himself at the guy who goaded him into the circle. Darren landed a kick to the guy's inner thigh. The pain from that stunning him before Darren changed directions as fluidly as a rapid in a running river and slammed his next kick into the back of the guy's knee. The goon hit the concrete on both knees and Darren swiped his fist into the side of his head while dodging the knife holder's attack. Darren grabbed the guy's wrist on his next swing and twisted it easily, breaking it. The kid stumbled back swearing, crying and screaming all at once. The noise annoyed Darren and he kicked the kid in the head to shut him up. Another tried to tackle him from behind, but Darren backflipped, landing on the guy's back and kicking his head as he stepped off him only to bend back under the attempted left hook by the second to last goonie. This one knew how to fight…or at least box. He was all bob and weave and one-two, one-two…but he barely pivoted his feet in the movement and his stance was out of wack. It reminded Darren of Asher almost, who almost always lost because of his footwork. A quick dodge and a swipe of the foot had the guy on the floor, a tornado kick to his chest had the guy wheezing on the ground before lack of oxygen took him out. The final guy had pulled out a gun, he held it shakily at Darren, their eyes wide and scared,

"I dunno…I dunno who the hell you think you are—," he stuttered. Darren growled and dove into a roll over the ground as the guy fired shots haphazardly into the wall and ground where Darren had been a moment ago. He grabbed the wrist the held the gun as he got to his feet, wrenching both the kid's wrist and the gun to the side, twisting it so he'd drop the weapon before pushing the guy away from himself. The goon stumbled back slightly, trying to plead to Darren,

"I don't get why you're pleading. I'm not going to kill you," Darren growled…even though his blood sung to him, telling him to do it. It's all he's known, it's all he's ever practiced…yet…in the moment it didn't appeal to him. Maybe if Darren had been out in the city longer, out in the cold night air longer still without food, this whole cornering would have ended differently. But Darren was here and now and he was not a murderer…not yet and maybe not ever, he didn't know. That realization, that he didn't know if he'd become a true killer, settled uneasily in Darren's stomach but he pushed the feeling away with practiced easy. Darren instead push-kicked the guy in the chest as hard as he could. The guy sailed backwards, but Darren didn't measure the distance between him and the other alleyway wall and the goon's head struck it loudly. A loud crack shattered the suspicious silence of the night, a loud wet crack that left Darren staring wide-eyed at the young man as he crumpled to the ground before him. Instantly sirens sounded and Darren sprinted from the area and out the other end of the alleyway.

Darren turned a corner, then turned right and then turned one way then another again and again and again, until he was five blocks away from where he'd been. He hadn't paid attention to where he went so he moved to continue his trek to…somewhere…only to walk face-first into solid black, gold and brown armor. Darren stumbled back and started to pull the Serum dagger from his pants' loophole only to have his wrist snatched up by another Talon from behind, the Talon twisted Darren's wrist, breaking it as if it were a twig, which forced him to drop the weapon. Pain flared and Darren tried not to cry out, he didn't want them to think he was weak. The Talon in front of him grabbed his other arm before he could try and attack…Darren's heart thundered as he strained to escape their grasp but he knew it was impossible. The streets were deserted, they were still in Crime Alley, no one would lift a finger to help anyone but themselves. Together the two Talons grabbed Darren's shoulders with their free hands and forced him to his knees as a third Talon picked up the dagger from the ground,

"Well, well, well Darren," William said, his face and eyes stone cold. He wasn't wearing his mask like the other two were. He never did when they fought or when he dueled out punishment to Darren. He never knew why William refused to wear the Talon mask, but Darren understood now…as fear flooded through him at the sight of his great-grandfather's thunderous face, "I am mightily disappointed in you,"

Freedom gone…no, Darren's freedom never existed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh! Stay tuned to find out what happens next! Thanks as always for reading and please please please REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW, they really truly make my day. 
> 
> Stay safe and healthy!


	10. Chapter 10

Darren glared up at William, trying not to show how much he trembled as his great-grandfather beheld the Serum blade. It glinted in the light of the moon, the dried blood apparent on the metal. William twirled it in his hand, not at all afraid of the poisoned tip that could cause him great pain and possible death if he managed to prick himself in the right location. He was a master knife thrower and tossing a dagger about was child's play. Cobb tossed and caught the blade, using his silence as a weapon, Darren knew his game well…but that didn't mean it didn't strike him with fear. William caught first the blade, then the hilt, blade, then the hilt over and over and over again,

"You killed Malcolm," William said, Darren may have heard that name once or twice, but he didn't know the face that belonged to it. It muted the guilt he felt at taking a life…even the second life of an undead assassin. Darren didn't say anything, just fixed his gaze away from William and to the sidewalk below,

"No one knew that these blades were moved from Harbor House to the compound. I told you this in confidence. Everyone expected an attack from outside the compound should the enemies of the Court learn of their secret weapon against us, but not from within," Still Darren didn't say anything, he knew what was coming, he knew he was going to die…but his fear left him, he only felt acceptance…yet also an urge to fight it. If only he could break the hold the two Talons had on him,

"We almost lost you, but your fight brought us to your general location. We do have very good ears after all. We could not find you, the fight was over fast. Thankfully you ran like a coward and conveniently right into us," William drawled, he gripped the dagger's hilt finally, "I wonder what will happen when we attempt to resurrect you with Electrum," Darren looked up at William in shock, surprised they'd attempt that after his betrayal…did they really need Darren that much? Or was this about something else,

"Perhaps you will not be revived at all, the Serum in your system too much for even Electrum to override. Or maybe you will live your entire second life with the agony of the Serum in your veins. Death not being given by us or the poison coursing through you for every second of your second life," William said, hoisting the dagger high, Darren flinched, eyes clenched shut waiting for death.

Only it never came. Metal clanged against metal and William let out a growl of anger,

"Get the hell away from him," an angry voice sounded. Darren looked up to see a young man with dark hair and a mask over his face. He wore flexible armor, all black with a belt around his waist and a blue V over his chest and up to his shoulders. He looked livid…and Darren didn't understand why. He knew of the vigilantes of Gotham and how they opposed the Court…so why was one of them trying to rescue him? Darren frowned trying to think when it hit him, they thought he was just a _civilian!_ That might work to his advantage. William let out a laugh, a low and cruel laugh,

"Spare heir met the original," he said gesturing to the black and blue clad man. Darren stared in shock, not expecting that revelation, "Known at night as Nightwing, or more commonly as Richard betrayer to my blood," Darren thought back to when he met the adopted son of Bruce Wayne, how excited he'd been…how he'd reacted when he heard his last name. All those questions they asked, their expressions when Derek mentioned the ski trip…they'd _known_. They knew the whole time…they'd known he'd been marked to become a Talon. Betrayal hit, harder than he thought it would. Anger following. Darren didn't know why he thought he'd be anything but angry when he'd finally meet his relative…the original heir. His emotions must've scrolled across his face because Nightwing…Richard…Dick…no…the _dick_ , stepped forward an expression of dismay on his face,

"Don't think that for a second. We were trying to rescue you. We _were_ trying to find you!"

"Lies, Darren, _lies,"_ William sneered, "If they really wanted to help you, where were they when you ran through these streets? Surely they knew what you looked like, and these are the areas they patrol the most,"

"Don't listen to him. He's manipulating you! It's what he does! He's been nothing but horrible to you— _abusive!"_ Dick cried, stepping forward, William stepped forward as well, half a step ahead of him,

"Don't do anything rash Richard. We all know how this is going to end tonight," Darren swallowed as he tried to make sense of what he's been hearing. Dick knew he was marked to be a Talon…so why wait till now…why not come sooner—because they had no information. Nothing. Darren gave them nothing to work with. He stuffed food in his mouth in an effort to keep his mouth shut for _William's_ sake, even as they continued with their questions throughout the night. Darren started to struggle, William was facing Dick again,

"Perhaps we can make a deal, Richard," William said, Darren could almost imagine the smirk he was giving Dick,

"What sort of deal?"

"No!" Darren cried, surprising even himself, "Don't do it. Not worth it!" he grunted as the Talons' grips tightened on him. His broken wrist ached painfully, but still he struggled,

"He walks free if you agree to be my heir," Dick looked like he was actually considering it,

"No! The Powers are _Owls!_ I'm legally their ward, I'd have to go back to them anyway…we'd both be captives of the Court! They'd use me against you!" Dick gave Darren a curt nod before swiftly bringing his dual batons into his hands,

"Not going to happen, to either of us again," William sighed,

"Ah, pity," William replied, before turning to the other two Talons as Dick waited for his…no _their_ …great-grandfather to strike. Realizing he wasn't moving Dick started forward, "You will not die by my hand after all Darren. Snap his neck,"

"NO!" Dick yelled, switching direction effortlessly and lunging for Darren, only to be tackled to the ground by William. They tumbled over the concrete. Darren in desperation threw his forehead into the Talon's head on his left, he knew he wouldn't feel it but the force of it would rock him backward. The world swam in and out of focus briefly as the hold on his left arm loosened. Hands from the other side wrapped around the sides of his head and Darren grabbed their owners' thumbs and snapped them, ignoring his protesting wrist. Talons could snap necks without all their fingers functioning, but these two were too obedient, they were younger Talons…older ones would have balked at the thought of doing William's dirty work for him. Useless thumbs were still a challenge for these Talons and Darren rolled backward away from them and shifted to his feet. He ran a few feet away, looking back at William and Dick fighting, as did the two Talons,

"Go after him you fools!" William snarled as Dick swiped at him with the batons. Dick didn't even glance back, flipping gracefully out of the reach of William's blades before snapping at Darren,

"Go! I'm fine! Get to safety! I'll find you later!" Darren wanted to snarl _'would that be before or after I'm nearly killed again'_ but the Talons had started after him and he couldn't spare a second. Talons were fast. And Darren was hopefully faster.

Darren sprinted across the street, hoping at least one of the few oncoming cars would hit one of the Talons. Though this was Crime Alley sometimes people had no choice but to drive through the area. These Talons were new too, a car horn would be too loud for them to handle. A car horn did sound and the cries of surprise behind him made Darren laugh as he swerved back to the other side of the road, hoping their disorientation at the horn would confuse them as to which way he went. If Darren really wanted to get away he should go for the rooftops, but that would make him more visible as well. And even if Dick's fellow vigilantes were out tonight, it didn't seem like they were around Crime Alley at the moment. So Darren stuck to the streets. He veered to the right and down another alleyway. He heard the Talons' pounding feet and cursed mentally, they still saw which way he went…or heard him or whatever. Darren forced himself to move faster, his chest burning at the effort but Darren couldn't stop. If Darren did, he'd be dead. If the Talons' tried they could've outpaced Darren by now, but clearly they were all for the chase. These two fools were very egotistic apparently.

Suddenly Darren felt a prick on his neck, causing him to stumble slightly. He reached back, not breaking his stride, and pulled a dart from his neck. Darren bit back another curse, it was a sedative. Great. Now he was doomed. Darren wasn't one to give up easily though and he kept running, despite his limbs growing heavy and the world blurring around him. It was a fast-acting sedative, designed for Talons as well as humans. It was virtually horse tranquilizer, he didn't even know how he was still on his feet and conscious. Darren did swerve unintentionally and stumble over invisible cracks and pieces of garbage as he continued running. In desperation Darren pushed some garbage cans in the way behind him and changed directions, turning into another alleyway. He glanced behind him to see that they collided with the trash cans well, almost too well, they got stuck and rolled past where Darren was. If he wasn't so tired and on the verge of passing out Darren would have laughed. He faced forward again only to collide with another person in armor. He bounced off and landed hard on the concrete, the world too blurry to make out the features of the armor. One thing was clear though, Darren didn't recognize the armored figure…he tried to scoot away, but his body wouldn't respond—the sedative catching up to him—the man reached for Darren,

 _"Finally,"_ the dimming silhouette said, Darren didn't know what that meant and he couldn't care because he went limp. Darren got a clear glimpse of orange and black before fully falling into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'd love to know your guys' thoughts so PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW or I guess COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT XD


	11. Chapter 11

Dick jumped across rooftops, ignoring the twinge of pain each motion brought from his wounds caused by his fight with William. He looked around the area, frantically trying to find any sign of Darren. Dick and William had fought for a while, it wasn't too long before William lost interest and knocked him out, but it seemed long enough for Darren to completely vanish. It was impossible, there wasn't even a hint of blood or any notion at where he had gone. Dick felt responsible if only he'd arrived sooner before William came. Cobb and the Talons with him had disappeared once Dick had been knocked out, clearly searching for the boy. Dick couldn't understand why they didn't just kill him, though he figured they valued the time advantage to find Darren or they just didn't care whether he lived or not. Dick limped to the edge of the rooftop only to jerk back and crouch down behind it. The three Talons were on the rooftop across from him, and William looked livid. The wind whipped away some of what he was saying, but Dick got some information from his yelling,

"He…away!" William growled, "He is fourteen…human!…bloody fools! How…outsmart you idiots! Just…Grandmaster….punishment!" Dick grimaced at that indication, he pitied those two Talons but that made things slightly better. Darren wasn't in the hands of the Court…he's just…lost…somewhere...in Gotham, one of the most dangerous cities in the world,

"Just great," Dick muttered,

"Are…telling me… _he_ took him!?" William thundered. Dick straightened at that, someone new had kidnapped Darren,

"Not good!" he growled, reaching up to activate his comm, which he should have had on the whole time everyone was probably worried about him, only to bite back a curse. It wasn't there,

"Touché Cobb," Dick muttered. Talons may not be up to speed with all technology, but they knew about the communication devices he and the rest of Gotham's vigilantes used. They probably destroyed it. Now he could go all the way back to the Cave and tell everyone what he discovered…but that would take time. He instead stood and limped back the way he came. He pulled out his grappling gun and held it up, only to wince in pain and clutched at his side with a grimace,

"Okay…first I'm heading to Leslie's Clinic to get patched up…then I'm going to find out what happened to Darren," he muttered to himself tiredly before leaping—more like slumping—off the rooftop and to the ground. He nearly fell over when he landed, he must've lost more blood than he thought, and stumbled over the next few blocks to where he knew the clinic was. Sure Alfred was an expert medic, but when they were in the field and needed fast _and_ superb medical attention, Dr. Leslie's Clinic was the place to be. He quickly went to her office window and rapped his knuckles on the panes. A light flickered on and the door opened. Leslie's face appeared in the window a moment later and she did not look happy,

"Do you people ever use doors?" Dr. Leslie tut-tutted, as she pulled open the window and Nightwing clambered in. He landed roughly, causing him to hiss in pain, "Oh now what did you do to yourself my boy?" she asked, helping him up and guiding him into one of the medical rooms down the hall,

"I really just need a quick patch-up Doc. I need to be looking for someone," he said,

"And the others can't take this on while I deal with you?" she asked raising an eyebrow as she got together the supplies she needed. Dick answered her as he pulled off the top section of his suit,

"They don't know where this guy has been and it would take too long to go there and back to here just to fill them in. The person I fought destroyed my comm device. Cell phones aren't allowed in the field so there's that," Leslie rolled her eyes,

"Then use my phone,"

"For all I know only Alfred is in that cave right now. It's late enough that everyone is out already," Dick stated,

"Then I'm sure they'll find this boy. You need to rest," Leslie said as she started stitching up his slashes and deeper wounds. Dick tried not to fidget or wince. Usually, she'd give him something for any pain but he'd refused anything, he needed to be aware right now. Not drowsy on pain meds,

"I can't rest. He's my _cousin_. I need to find him," Leslie's eyes widened at that but she didn't say anything, just focused on her work, "Do you know what happened to him?"

"No. I was knocked out for a bit…but from what I can tell someone, not the people who were after him or at least someone _else_ who's after him, took him,"

"Seems he's a popular kid," Leslie said dryly,

"In an infamous way," Dick replied not smiling at her attempt of a joke, "The leg wound is the only thing worrying down there," he said kicking off his boot and rolling up his suit. She stitched that up as well but told him to come and see her after he found Darren. Dick promised and started towards the window only to stop noticing the computer on her desk,

"Could I borrow that?" he asked, already sitting at the desk and starting to type,

"Um…sure. My login is—,"

"Leslie Thompkins and mcKitty45, yeah I know,"

"How—?"

"Batman's kid," Dick said with a smirk. Leslie rolled her eyes in annoyance before saying dryly,

"You better not be doing anything illegal. I don't have the firewalls and security the Batcomputer has,"

"I know. I'm going to be brief, I just need to know who took Darren and if it was near a road or somewhere that's within sight of some CCTV camera in Crime Alley it would give me that information," Dick typed as fast as he could, scanning the feeds and switching within the timeframes of when the whole attack took place. He followed as Darren sprinted away from his and William's fight, switching cameras as Darren darted across the street, the two Talons gaining on him. He lost Darren once he turned down a random alleyway but found him again when he turned down another alley closer to a traffic intersection…and the person who kidnapped him,

"It _can't_ be him!" Dick exclaimed, "Why would _he_ want Darren?!"

"Who?" Leslie asked but Dick had already exited out of the feeds and returned the computer to how it was before. He needed to find Darren and fast. One of Dick's enemies had his hands on him and Dick knew from past experience what they were capable of...he'd seen it, endured it, lived with the repercussions of all that menace had done. He was out the window and on the rooftops of Gotham city before Leslie could even blink or wave her goodbye.

* * *

"Should we be concerned that Nightwing hasn't radioed in yet?" Tim asked Bruce as they leapt across the rooftops, "This isn't like him," Tim paused, in his motion scanning the Cityscape,

"He can take care of himself," Damian replied, "Besides you arguing with him didn't help matters,"

"Oh you're one to talk, all you ever do is argue with everyone!" Tim snapped, glaring at the younger boy. Damian started to snap a retort only to be interrupted by his father,

"Knock it off you two or I'm sending you both back in," Bruce growled at them,

"It's quiet tonight," Barbara said through the comms as she leapt to her quadrant of patrol for the night, "It's strange,"

"Unexpected for sure," Stephanie's voice crackled in next, "But if there's anything I learned from doing this every night is that quiet means something big is about to happen,"

"Like a fourteen-year-old kid being killed and then resurrected as a Talon," Tim muttered, "I can't believe we didn't find him,"

"Don't beat yourself up. We tried…it's just the Court went underground… _way_ underground. This was sprung on us so suddenly too, we didn't even know he existed until now!"

"It's weird though, how overshadowed he was. I mean I know it was the Powers's doing, but you'd think Gotham would remember the Crownes," Barbara mused,

"I think it had to do that they traveled so often. They were never really in Gotham enough to be fully recognized. They were very wealthy, they just didn't bask in it as much as the others did," Tim replied,

"And now we know why," Damian stated, "They were caught up in the web that is the Court of Owls,"

"Focus on the matter at hand," Bruce told them all, "I know this is frustrating and trying, but this is about more than just one person,"

"We know. It's just not many of us have relatives left. And yeah, I know. Blood makes you related, loyalty makes you family and the blood of the convent is thicker than the water of the womb and all that, but on a literal ancestral linage scale, not many of us have many blood relatives left. I have my mom, Batgirl has her dad, even Robin still has Talia! But Nightwing…he doesn't have any relatives left, this is a big deal for him. And he got to live a life free from the Court while Darren didn't. He'll feel guilty about it for a while," Stephanie said,

"We don't even know if they went through with what they planned to," Tim stated, "Perhaps we still have time?" he was being too hopeful, a dangerous thing,

"That's wishful thinking," Damian monotoned,

"Keep an eye out tonight, spread out. Send for backup if it's too much to handle on your own. Damian, you're with me, and keep an eye out for Nightwing. If he's trying to find the Court something tells me William will be even less inclined to keep him alive than he would Darren." With that Tim leapt off to his location within Gotham, keeping a watchful eye on the city as all of them watched out for their missing bird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps this was a bit of a filler chapter, but I needed a bit of set up for what goes down in the next chapter. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please please please leave some comments!!! I'd love to know your guys' thoughts!


	12. Chapter 12

Darren woke to the dull aching of his wrist and the sound of someone shifting by the surprisingly comfy surface he lay on. He kept his eyes closed and tried to keep his breathing steady. Darren didn't know where he was or why he was even on a bed…at least it _felt_ like a bed. Darren thought he'd be dead by now. He was uncertain as to whether the man who took him was with the Court or if he was just another Gotham crazy going around kidnapping people. He didn't want them to know he was awake and he hoped he'd get some information by staying 'unconscious,'

"I know you're awake kid," a voice said, Darren cracked an eye open and was shocked to find a guy only five or six years older than himself sitting next to him with his arms crossed. He was in dark jeans, an orange t-shirt, and a black leather jacket. Another boy sat next to him, two years younger than the other at least with blond hair and blue eyes. There was a ridged scar peeking out of the collar of his shirt on his neck,

"Where am I?" Darren questioned,

"A hotel," the older guy replied,

_"Why?"_

"We were told to bunk here until it was safe…well… _safer_ to move,"

"Who told you that…and move to _where?"_ Darren demanded, sitting up…ignoring the spinning sensation of his head as he did so. He placed a hand to his head unintentionally, and realized it was his broken one with surprise, "I can move it?" he questioned. Waving it around slightly. It still ached, but not as much as a recently broken bone should hurt. Not to mention he could actually _move_ it. The two guys exchanged a look before the blond one signed him out a response, 'We set the bone, there should still be some pain,' Darren raised an eyebrow at that,

"He said—," the other guy started but Darren interrupted him,

"I know what he said. And yeah, I figured there'd be pain, but not that I could actually move my arm!" Darren exclaimed. He had learned some sign language with the Court. Sometimes there were some things even Talons couldn't heal from or Electrum couldn't fix such as deafness, wounds inflicted before Electrum was used and learning disabilities like dyslexia. It _reactivated_ the brain, not rewired it,

"Don't get worked up. It's okay. You're okay,"

"I don't know who the hell you are! I don't know where I am. And on top of that I have undead assassins after my ass so I'm pretty sure I'm far from okay! Would you _please_ tell me what the hell is going on?!"

"I'm Grant and this is Joseph. We're your half-brothers. Our dad is the one who got you away from the Court," Darren blinked at the two in the chairs. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out so he just closed it,

'He said not to say anything,' Joseph signed, glaring at Grant,

"I don't give a fuck,"

"How—what… _really?"_ Darren questioned. He didn't exactly know how to react. The man in the orange and black armor was his father? His father actually wore _armor?_ What did that mean…who was his dad? Grant opened his mouth to speak but the doorknob turned and a tall well-muscled man stalked into the room. He had dark, greying hair and blue-grey eyes exactly like Darren's, only an eye patch covered his right eye,

"Out," he snapped at Joseph and Grant. Grant, with a roll of his eyes stood as did Joseph and they marched out of the hotel room and into the hallway. It was actually a very nice room. Large windows, big bed, but it was clear they weren't staying here for a while. For one there was only one bed and the other there were no bags for the three others or Darren. He looked at his father, drinking in his features. Trying to match them to his. Darren definitely didn't have his father's hair. That was all his mother. But his eyes…er…eye, those matched. They had the same build, or they would one day when Darren was older, though maybe he'd be a bit leaner than his father. Their jawlines were similar, the same with their noses. It was uncanny looking into the face of someone he'd never met and seeing so many similarities. His father walked over and took Grant's seat and looked Darren in the eye,

"It is nice to finally meet you face to face," he said,

"Uh…yeah. It is," Darren said awkwardly, "But I'd really like to know why you just randomly today of all days decided to sweep in and kidnap me instead of oh I don't know, coming to Gotham years earlier and taking the Powers to court saying 'this is my son and I'd rather raise him myself!?' Oh or maybe actually letting me know you were looking for me! Or maybe instead of fucking kidnapping me helping me out when I was nearly killed tonight!"

"You have a right to be angry," the man next to him said, "And I can and I will explain. But I don't exactly know where to start,"

"How about with your name?" Darren asked, his eyes hard as steel. It had been the focus of all his questions. The one thing burning in the back of his mind all these years: _what was his father's name?_

"Slade Wilson,"

"So…does that make me Darren Wilson?" at that Slade cracked a smile,

"Your mother and I were not married when you were born, though even if we were I doubt Amanda would let her name be forgotten or tacked on second to last,"

"So you did leave before I was born," Darren grumbled, looking away and out the window to his left,

"Well…Gotham and I have a bit of a complicated history. I met your mother in Greece. I was working a job while she and her father were enjoying an international gala by one of Athens richer families. Her societal events and my jobs crisscrossed many times after that. Almost like she wanted them to, she was a smart woman. Liked computers a little too much for her father's taste. And eventually, one thing led to another—,"

"—Okay! I get it!" Darren stammered, his face reddening,

"And I did go to Gotham once I found out she was pregnant with you…though I warned her it was for the last time. My lifestyle is not an easy or safe one. I've accumulated many enemies and they would love to take out any grievances they have with me on my children. I told her who I really was and what I really did, not what my alias was at the time and the lie I told her regarding what I did for a living…but she already knew, she hacked the information out of the computer. Perhaps she loved me still despite it," Slade shrugged,

"And what do you do?" Darren asked,

"I'm a mercenary. I'm a bit of an assassin…a bit like you in that regard,"

"I'm not an assassin…not yet anyway. I mean I was trained to be one, and I did kill that one Talon to escape but that's one guy and he's not even technically alive so I don't think that even counts,"

"And you had every right to," Slade agreed, and other than that statement said nothing more about Darren being or becoming an assassin. And that was okay with Darren, "I left Gotham a few months before you were born. I thought she'd be safe but then your grandfather died and whatever he did to keep the Court of Owls at bay broke. Your mother did everything she could from what my sources tell me, but they got to her," Darren couldn't tell if Slade felt pain or remorse for her death, his face revealed nothing. Darren didn't know how he felt about that lack of emotion. Slade said his mother loved him…but did Slade love her? Could he even love anyone after so many years of death and carnage? And where did that leave Slade's regard for Darren himself? Darren didn't know what to make of it all,

"I wanted to come and get you as soon as the funeral was over…but they beat me to you and on top of that they alerted my enemies that I had another son. A young son. I couldn't go and get you, it would confirm that truth and they'd hunt you down whether you were with me or living in some orphanage. You'd never be safe. And even worse my employers could exploit that information for themselves in some matter. Or force you to work for them as you grew older. So I told myself I'd wait until you were old enough to defend yourself and then get you,"

"Did you know what would happen if I were turned into a Talon? Did you know what I'd go through before even becoming a Talon" Darren asked, his thoughts flashing back to the brutal training, the harsh discipline and punishments no child should face,

"I did…but I knew they wouldn't turn you," Slade replied, he didn't address Darren's training or the extent of it…but Darren focused on what was actually said,

"What do you mean they _wouldn't turn me?_ They were just about to!"

"I know…and that's a problem. But there's always a solution," Slade said. Darren didn't know what that meant, "They didn't want to turn you because they couldn't. They realized turning you into a Talon is more of a challenge than they thought it was,"

"Why?"

"Because you are my son. My blood runs through your veins," he said that like it answered everything, "Are you thirsty?"

"Uh…yes, actually I am," Darren replied, accepting the water Slade handed him,

"When they changed their mind, abandoning all thought of the risks I decided to pull you out…but they always had a tail on you and let you out of the compound less and less. It was harder to get you away from them,"

"Ugh, tell me about it," Darren groaned, blinking away a feeling of tiredness that suddenly washed upon him,

"I sent Grant and Joseph to collect you along with some scrapped together robots an associate of mine lent me, but that didn't work. They got you out before they could find you. We then tried a different approach and scouted the compound…waiting for an opportunity. You ran away, which provided an opening but you moved fast through Gotham and they found you before I did. Thankfully you somehow got away and I took you and brought you here for now. But they're still after you,"

"I know…where are we going to go after here?" Darren asked, yawning,

"Some place safer, briefly, then we're leaving the country. They don't go outside Gotham, you'll be safe there. With us,"

"You want me to tag along?" Darren asked surprised, yawning again…why was he so tired,

"If that's what you want," Slade replied,

"It's nice to have a choice for once," Darren agreed, his eyes felt heavy, "Why do I feel so tired?"

"Don't be angry," Slade stated, "It's for your own good. I said there's always a solution and I'm making sure they can't turn you without disastrous results ever again," Darren felt a stab of betrayal and anger, the water had been drugged. Maybe Slade had a reason, but what was the point of trusting his father if it meant being manipulated. What was Slade going to do? Darren hardly knew this man, he may be his father biologically, but he never raised Darren and Darren didn't know him. Perhaps he shouldn't have been so trusting...family has never proven to be trustworthy, William was proof of that even Dick was proof of that to an extent why would Slade be any different. Darren's head hit the pillow…which was better than concrete…and he sailed into unconsciousness the second time that night.

* * *

Darren came to the second time that night somewhere colder, and on something harder than a bed. He was too tired to even move, let alone open his eyes…which was weird. He'd shaken off horse tranquilizer faster than this…what did Slade _give_ him? He felt a brief flash of anger at the thought of his father, which turned to confusion as he heard arguing a few ways away,

"Why didn't you just ask him?" It was Grant and he sounded angry,

"He would never agree!" Slade snapped back,

"I wonder why! The Court threatened virtually the same exact thing!" Darren slightly panicked at that, he tried to move, tried to get his head off the table, but as he tried he got hit with a bout of vertigo so intense he had to slump his head back down,

"This will save him from that fate! Mirakuru runs through all our veins, even if it's diluted for you three boys. Two drugs interacting can be disastrous. It could kill him permanently or cause even worse side effects leaving him _begging_ for death. They don't care what happens to Darren. If he dies and comes back they have a new Talon as well as an Owl to exploit, as well as a way to get at me through him. Despite the possibility of him hating me for this, I don't think he'd want _that_ it's no way to live. If Darren doesn't come back then he's just dead and the Owls get his inheritance. They win, Darren _dies,"_

"But this could kill him as well!" Grant hissed, "I can't believe I agreed to this. So what if he's been trained his whole life by assassins, he doesn't need to be a super-soldier as well. Besides, even with all that training, his body might reject the Mirakuru!"

"It's already there! Like dissolves like!"

"It might not be enough," Darren struggled once more to try and sit up. He let out a groan and turned his head stiffly to the side. He could see Slade and Grant face to face, anger written on both their faces with Joseph off to the side, frowning in concern. Next to Darren's metal cot—they were in some warehouse, in who knows what city—was an IV bag filled with a pale yellowish liquid. He didn't know what it was but it was clearly not flowing into his arm just yet. Joseph saw that he was awake and tapped Slade on the shoulder before pointing to him. Slade frowned as Darren struggled to reach for the IV cord,

"This could save him from that fate," Slade said moving over to the IV himself,

"And ruin his life. Strength isn't always a gift! And neither is never aging. We could have left already, they can't reach him if we just leave!" Grant yelled after him but made no move to stop Slade,

"And yet you readily accepted the full entirety of the Mirakuru despite your hatred for it!"

"I felt I had no choice!"

"Darren _barely_ has one. And this will keep him from being tied down by the Court. He can live his own life this way!" Slade fumed before pulling whatever was preventing the drug to flow. Darren panicked, he squirmed trying to yank off the cord as the liquid seeped down. Grant didn't move, just watched with anger and pity in his eyes. Joseph stood behind Grant, biting his lip anxiously, "Believe me when I say this Darren. I'm doing this for you. I'm doing this to keep you safe," Darren shot his father a snide glare as the Mirakuru trickled down.

Searing pain ran through his arm. It raced up to his shoulder and down the right side of his body. He let out a cry of pain, a raw yell, and squirmed and bucked and tried to make this pain go away. Slade had the decency to look concerned. Darren's cry of pain turned into a scream, he felt like he was melting from the inside out. Suddenly something flew through the air, severing the IV cord, forcing the liquid to spill onto the warehouse floor. Darren slumped down as the pain slowly ebbed away, leaving him tired and drowsy. He rolled off the table and painfully onto his hands and knees, he felt like he was about to throw up. A hand on Darren's shoulder had him flinching away but he saw it was Nightwing, he'd found him! Dick helped Darren up before they turned to face Slade, Grant and Joseph. Slade had swords in his hand and Grant had a handheld gun in his grasp,

"This doesn't concern you," Slade growled, "I've stayed out of your city. I figured this brief visit wouldn't even register on your radar," Dick looked furious,

"Really Slade? Doing whatever the hell you were doing to an innocent boy just to get at me? That's low even for you!"

"Why does this even matter to you? This isn't about you at all, I was trying to save his life!"

"It looks like you were _torturing_ him!" Nightwing snarled, stepping forward,

"Seem a little riled up for one random boy," Grant snapped,

"That random boy is my _cousin_ ," Dick growled, "Therefore you have no right to say that this shouldn't matter to me," Slade let out a laugh, a cackle, and if Darren could focus better he'd intervene but at the moment, he wasn't sure if he was concussed somehow or if whatever was just injected in him was making the room spin by way of some weird after effect,

"Oh, the universe works in mysterious ways. Your cousin is my _son_ ," Slade sneered, Dick jerked backed as if someone had punched him. Clearly Dick and his dad had a history or something,

"What?" Dick stated, "You're…he's… _really?"_ He seemed at a loss for words, thankfully the world stopped feeling as if it were spinning and Darren had some words of his own to express. He grabbed the severed end of the IV and stalked over to Slade. Throwing the piece at him. Slade caught it instinctively but missed the punch Darren threw. He never knew a punch could feel so good. Slade inhaled sharply, keeping his eyes closed and his arms tense at his side, though his hands were clenched into fists. It must've taken all his strength not to hit Darren back,

"First the Talons and the Court, now you! What is it with everyone and meddling in my life! For once I want a choice in what will happen to me. Just _once!_ You said that it was my choice whether I go with you and leave Gotham and then you do this?! What the hell is _wrong_ with you! You're just as bad as them! What did you even do?"

"What _did_ you do?" Dick asked stepping forward, eyeing Grant and his gun, "What was that stuff,"

"What it was won't matter soon, since you intervened there isn't enough in his system to save him from his fate if Darren stays here. We need to _leave_. The Court no doubt followed you here Gray Son of Gotham," Dick flinched again and glared at Slade, "Yes I know of your connection to the Court, I just didn't connect that to Darren. I suppose you're the reason he's in this mess,"

"What it was does matter! That could have killed me! I heard Grant say so. I can't believe my own _father_ would risk that," Slade looked Darren in the eye, his face grim and serious,

"There is a lot a father would do to protect his children,"

"Yeah like forcing some weird superhuman drug into their system? That's not protection, not if they have to be _drugged_ for it to happen. That's fucked up!" Darren growled, "I'm not going back to the Court, never again, but I'm most certainly _not_ going anywhere with _you!"_

"Then you can come with us. We can protect you from the Court—," Dick started,

"—Bullshit, they ransacked the place on the Night of Owls. You barely held your own. If we leave Gotham they won't come after us, Darren. We are your family. I've searched and planned and waited so long to get you away from them,"

"Yeah. Well, I waited for a long time too," Darren snapped. He turned to Dick and opened his mouth to say he'll go with him…only to stop. He thought it over and realized with only a little regret that if he agreed to go with his cousin, he'll never really know his brothers or his father. Yet at the same time if he went with his father he wouldn't know his cousin. It seemed it was one way or the other and based on his father's actions, he's less honest than the Court. With a sigh and only slight hesitation, Darren said, "I'll go with you," possibly damning words,

"You most certainly will _not_ ," a new voice said, a voice Darren knew. A voice Darren now feared more than anything. It must've shown on his face because Dick instinctively stepped in front of him, as did Slade and his brothers. It was weird to think of them as that, he barely knew them…but they just were. Just as Slade was his father…even so, their actions in the past few hours did not give Darren the family feel,

"Darren run out back and keep running. Get as far away from here as possible," Dick hissed to him,

"I'm not running. I am tired of running," Additionally Darren didn't think he could run in a straight line at the moment,

"You are exhausted from running around all night, not to mention nearly dying…twice…you need to get out of here," Dick whispered heatedly,

"You are not taking my son from me Cobb, not again," Slade growled at the Talon standing a few yards away in the entrance to the warehouse,

"Oh please, you barely put up any sort of fight the first time we took him. What is to stop us now?" William said, pulling out his sword and swinging it lightly in a wide arc, "If you actually cared you would have taken him yourself years ago,"

"I tried, but you nearly killed my sons. I had to retreat, and make a better plan," Slade said, glancing briefly at Grant and Joseph and then Darren in turn. Darren didn't know about that, Slade never mentioned that and neither did Grant or Joseph,

"Darren _go!"_ Dick hissed, waving a hand back at him,

"I'm not going anywhere. It's only him. What have we got to lose?" Darren smarted. Just as he said that the skylights and windows around them shattered and dozens of Talons leapt inside the warehouse,

"You had to ask," Grant growled as the Talons of the Court attacked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you'll have to let me know what you think of Slade actually being Darren's dad. I wonder if you guys guessed it or something along those lines from the last chapter. Also, if not everything makes sense or you feel that Slade is lying or at least withholding a lot of things from Darren...more information on Slade, Slade and Amanda and Darren's half-siblings are to come throughout this series. So stay tuned, I'd really love to hear your thoughts on this. So as always PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT!
> 
> Also, I'm using Mirakuru from Arrow as the name for the experimental drug that turns Slade into a supersoldier. The comics don't mention what it's called (from what I recall) so I think having a name for it would be best if it's from somewhere that's using the same character. It will also be easier to diffrentiate the Electrum from the Mirakuru.


	13. Chapter 13

"Kill them all," William snarled, "We only need one body intact, so do what you like with the others," Darren gulped at the prospect of his implied importance over that of his father, brothers and cousin as each and every one of the enemy Talons turned toward him. They all ran forward, swords and daggers flashing in the moonlight. He dodged and weaved, catching glimpses of Dick flipping over and away from Talons and trying to fight his way over to where Darren was. Grant and Joseph were holding their own against the Talons, though it was clear Grant already ran out of bullets. Slade, on the other hand, was making a beeline towards William, his longsword out, and Darren was okay with that. William deserved it,

"Whoa!" Darren cried as he barely avoided getting beheaded by a Talon. A bunch of them circled him, swiping and stabbing at him. Darren danced away, flipping over the blades and ducking as they tried to kill him. With a growl he leapt at one of the Talons, grabbing him by the shoulders and twisting him around to be impaled by another's sword. He leapt out of the ring they'd created and glanced around the warehouse. Cobb was fighting his father, his brothers and cousin were fighting numerous Talons of their own. It seemed like Darre was on his own--a sitting duck--so naturally he ran over to where Dick was, tackling a Talon sneaking up behind him and ramming the guy's head on the concrete ground repeatedly until a wet cracking sound echoed through the warehouse,

"Whoa! Darren, that's overkill!" Dick cried, limboing under a sword. He swung his dual batons swiftly at the Talon, effectively knocking him into oncoming Talons,

"Oh, I'm sorry for saving your life," Darren snapped, "He's already dead, it doesn't matter,"

"I know that he's 'undead'. It was just… _violent,"_ Darren rolled his eyes,

"What does it take to get a weapon around here!" He called, twisting away from a sword point, "I'm a goner out here!"

"Use these, I have extra," Dick said tossing him his dual batons and taking out another pair. Darren twirled them in his hands, frowning,

"Where are the pointy ends?"

"They're nonlethal!"

"Well these guys _are_ lethal!" Darren snapped, he used the batons as if he were wielding dual swords. Their weight was off in his hands but they'd have to do. He ducked under the swing of one Talon's sword and thwacked a dual baton into his side…it did literally nothing and Darren had to flip away or be cut in half by the sword, "These are useless!" he snapped at Dick, jumping away from a Talon that came up behind him and hand-sprung away from a different one,

"You are literally a sitting duck here!" Dick snapped at him, "Get out of here! They're after _you,"_

"Of course all of your deaths would be welcomed, but yes, we are only after one of you," William snarled from somewhere off to Darren's left,

"Here! Use these!" Grant called to him, sliding a set of dual swords over to him. Darren sprinted over to the weapons, as five other Talons did the same. He slid on the ground and snatched them up, bringing them out in front of him to block a blow from one of the five Talon's attack. He heard the whistle of another weapon behind him and rolled to his left and back to his feet. Grant jumped into the ring of Talons behind him and sliced the head off of one of the Talons,

"Might as well get used to fighting as a family," he said,

"Some family. Nothing like getting drugged and lied to," Darren muttered, slicing the hand off of one Talon and slicing the back of the knee of another. He then proceeded to severe all vital tendons on the Talon's body. Even if they felt no pain, they needed the tendons to move properly…it was biological anatomy. Though of course, the Talon would eventually heal. More and more Talons were slinking over to where Darren was, he knew he should really leave but another part of him wanted to stay so that at least he'd have some people to fight with,

"It's not always like that," Grant stated, referring to what Darren had said before,

"That doesn't make it right," Darren growled stabbing a Talon in the eye,

"You know I am not one to usually say this, but we are sort of being overrun here, so less talking and more fighting!" Dick said as he was backed over to where Darren and Grant were. There were fewer of them now. It's a good thing they didn't send all the Talons to the warehouse, just a dozen of them…not too many. But Darren was only human and so was Dick, they would tire easily. Joseph was fighting silently off to his left with Grant now by his side, they moved in sync, but Darren can see that they were slowing…even their endurance had an end. Talons…though they did use an extreme amount of energy to heal…their endurance tappers slower seeing as their strength and speed usually made up for them needing to use that energy to heal. Of course, using the speed did use energy and calories, the strength rather was endless. Darren winced as Joseph was flung through the air and into a wall where he crumpled to the ground unmoving. The Talon who threw him wouldn't pay him any mind, he just turned and started after Darren. Warily Darren sighed and shoved the two weapons he had into the belt loops of his pants,

"I'm going," Darren muttered to Dick,

"Head to Wayne Tower, when we're done here I'll find you. Stay hidden, they might have other eyes out tonight," Dick hissed back, blocking a sword arcing towards Darren's head, Darren gave a curt nod before leaping up and using Grant's back as a springboard, the older guy was not expecting that and he let out a small yelp as Darren leapt onto the ladder that led to a high-rise platform above all the fighting, he'd jump out the window there and run out into the city. Out of the corner of his eye, Darren could see his father still fighting William, the unconscious or dead bodies of Talons strewn out around them. There were even fewer than before..they were actually winning,

"Darren! Look out!" Grant yelled, Darren instinctively ducked and a loud clang rang throughout the warehouse as the metal sword struck the handrail of the platform. Darren stumbled back, weaving and ducking away from the Talon's swipes. He'd always had a good eye when it came to a Talon's speed, he figured now that it was the Mirakuru in his blood that aided him. He kept backing up, wondering when he'd run out of space until he stumbled back into another Talon, he tried to surge away but they wrapped an arm around him like a vice, and the other Talon stalked toward him. He struggled in the Talon's grip. He didn't know who it was under his mask, for all he knew it was Ralph…oh God…what if it _was_ Ralph, Darren figured it would be poetic in a way, or at least Ralph would think of it that way,

"This is no time for toying with your prey! Snap his neck!" William shouted from below,

"No!" Slade snarled, stabbing William through the heart—which wouldn't kill him, just incapacitate him for a while. To kill a Talon without a serum blade you had to cut the head off or rip the heart out—pulled out the sword and hurled it through the air at the Talon, like a spear, who had instantly wrapped his hands around Darren's—who was still struggling—neck. There was a wet slurping sound and the Talon holding Darren went limp. Darren stumbled in shock, nearly falling over the collapsed Talon's body before remembering the other Talon still there, he tried to twist away from the blade but it grazed his stomach and he let out a yelp of pain. Dick let out a curse and leapt up the ladder as well, shouldering the other Talon over the edge. Slade had leapt up behind Darren and the two stood sandwiching Darren on the platform as the last of the Talons swarmed the damn thing,

"Get out! We got this!" Dick said waking the Talons over the sides as they came at him,

"Leave and head to the underground of the city," Slade agreed, "I have connections. They'll protect you,"

"I thought you said they'd kill me!" Darren cried, pulling out his weapons once more…unsure of how to help them now that they were in the way of any potential attackers,

"Go to the Tower Darren. We'll protect you. Your father's a murderer, he blew up Bludhaven!" Dick snapped,

"You did _what?"_ Darren cried,

"It was a job!"

"That doesn't make it right!" Darren snapped, of course he'd just killed a bunch of Talons—though they were technically already dead, that whole concept and his training was morally confusing to him—,

"Nor was turning my children against me!" Slade called, shooting Dick a glance,

"They seem to be back at your side right now!" Dick called back,

"Trust me that was harder than just apologizing," Slade growled, "Go, Darren! Get out of here,"

"I—I just—," Darren didn't know what to do or where to go,

"Get to the Tower, we can—," Dick started,

"Go to the criminal underground Darren," Slade interrupted,

"No! Don't listen to him! He's not trustworthy!"

"You manipulated my daughter into joining you and your team! You aren't trustworthy either!" _Wait, I have a sister?_ Darren briefly thought before refocusing on his father and Dick arguing,

"You manipulated a Titan member into capturing us! And made one of them think it was their fault!"

"I fought the Beastmen with you when your old teammates fell _ill!_ And found the antidote!"

"You forced me to steal for you at the threat of my friends' lives!"

"Your 'friend' disintegrated my wife!" Slade yelled they were still focused on the Talons still swarming the platform, less and less were alive or conscious…Darren just stood between them, listening to them accuse the other of being more and more horrible than the other. Darren couldn't stand it anymore. They were tearing him mentally apart. They were both family, and yet they were making Darren feel more divided than ever,

"After you drove her insane by injecting her with your blood to give her your healing ability!" Dick snarled,

"That's low!" Grant yelled up at Dick, "Didn't your mother teach you any decency circus boy!"

"Shut up!" Dick snarled down at him, the distraction cost Grant and he was knocked out by another Talon, who raised his sword to kill him. Slade threw a dagger that severed the Talon's spinal cord—only temporarily—and the Talon dropped like a stone. Darren couldn't take it, too much back and forth too much confrontation…too much death and decay. He re-sheathed his weapons and jumped down to the warehouse below, there were no more Talons that Darren could see, he just needed quiet and peace. Dick took down his last Talon and Slade killed his own last two before they too leapt down,

"Come on, let's go,"

"Let's get your brothers and leave," Slade said. Darren shook his head and stepped back, away from them,

"All you've been doing is arguing, telling me to do one thing or the other! I just want a choice!"

"You have a choice," Dick said, "It's okay. I know you feel suffocated by the Court…I know you need to fly free and I can make sure that _happens,"_

"That's just it! I do have a choice," Darren sighed, "And it's between my _father_ and my _cousin_. Two choices and…and…I can't make it,"

"I think it's really a choice between protection or freedom," Dick said, "Slade can offer one…I can offer _both,"_

"Yeah right, freedom in Gotham. There are Owls everywhere, I can take you where there are none," Slade growled turning towards Dick,

"And they won't stop there. They'll find you," Dick said, facing his father and glaring darkly,

"They haven't left Gotham in centuries!"

"Who's to say they won't start now!" Dick snapped back, they were nose to nose,

"You keep doing this!" Darren cried, "How can I choose when either option has the potential of a target on my back!" Still, the two men glared and sneered in each other's faces,

"Or there's a third option!" a voice said…no _William_ said…from behind Darren, "death!" Dick and Slade seemed to turn in slow motion to face him, while everything moved faster than the blink of an eye for him. Hands grabbed Darren's head and jerked violently to one side. Darren heard a loud echoing crack that roared in his ears before a searing flash of pain flared up and down his spine,

_"No!"_

Echoed voices screamed, before Darren saw, felt, and heard nothing. _Nothing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, legit forgot today was Saturday. I just don't know what day it is anymore, quarantine life I guess. Hope you liked this chapter! Were you surprised? If you have any questions, comments or concerns PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT! And I'll try to answer the best I can...I don't do spoilers fellas! XD


	14. Chapter 14

Dick could actually see the life leave Darren's eyes. He saw him fall limply to the ground and he couldn't help but sink to his knees. The shock, grief, and surprise getting to him. He'd failed. Dick had one job and he _failed_. He'd been too focused on arguing with Slade, Darren's _father_ , to notice William Cobb sneaking up on Darren…they'd all been too focused on their differences, who was better, who was the one to get Darren to safety…and they lost him in the process. Darren was dead. _Dead_. And it was all Dick's fault.

William scooped Darren up off the ground, glaring at Slade and Dick warily as he did so,

"I have won. You will only know him as a Talon from now on. There is nothing else you can do,"

"That's only if the combined drugs of the Mirakuru and the Electrum don't kill him outright!" Slade growled, he didn't even seem too torn up, but Dick knew he was trying to keep himself from tearing William, the only person who could get Darren back to life, apart for what he did,

"That is a risk we are willing to take. Would you rather see your son dead or alive?"

"What you call alive I call _enslaved,"_ Slade growled,

"Yet you are still a mercenary, and you do not see that as enslavement. What is the difference between you and me?" Cobb said dryly, "I am taking him. Stop me if you will but the longer I wait the less likely the Electrum will work,"

"Get out of here before I kill you," Slade hissed, _"GET OUT!"_ And William did. The warehouse was empty...silent and cold. 

Dick wished he had moved and snatched his cousin from his grasp. Dick wished he had stopped Cobb…but he didn't. He just stayed where he was. Maybe it was because Dick secretly wanted Darren to be brought back, even as something he despised. Even so, even though the thought crossed his mind, the word _failure, failure, failure_ still marched through Dick's head,

"It's not your fault kid," Slade said, "I didn't notice him either and I have senses similar to Talons," Dick didn't register that, he heard Slade and only felt his rage brew, roiling painfully in his chest,

"It _is_ my fault. I should have just grabbed Darren and left instead of even talking about anything with you!" Dick snapped, "If I hadn't been so angry that you were his father I could have ignored you and left with him,"

"If you hadn't have come here me and my boys would already be gone. Maybe Darren would have hated me for making him a super soldier, but he would have been safer with us than with you!" Slade deflected,

"If you hadn't tried to inject more Mirakuru into him there would be less of a chance that he might die and _stay_ dead!" Dick shot back, "Just because it kept you alive all these years doesn't mean it would do the same to Darren! Didn't you learn anything from what happened your own wife!" Slade closed his hands into a fist, restraining himself from attacking and Dick had to do the same himself. He'd learned a lot from Slade when he was Renegade and trained Rose, sometimes those lessons drifted back to him during fights. Dick needed to remember that he wasn't an executioner,

" _Don't_ speak to me about my wife," Slade growled darkly before turning and walking over to his sons. Dick took a deep breath, the pit in his stomach growing heavier at the prospect of telling everyone how he failed to save Darren and disappeared silently out of the warehouse before Slade turned back around.

The sky was starting to lighten as Dick swung back towards the Manor and the Cave. It was a miserable trek back. He didn't want to face them…he didn't want his family to ask why he didn't call for backup, why he didn't use a payphone or a phone even if that was a risk to their identities. Dick didn't want to tell them that he failed so thoroughly and he didn't want to see the disappointment in Bruce's eyes. But he knew he had to, they needed to regroup. Darren was going to be resurrected…but that didn't mean they couldn't still grab him and keep him from being the Owls' assassin. The Court would search hard and try to get Darren back but they'd teach him that there was more than one way to fight evil. That killing didn't have to be the answer and that he can learn to control the strength, speed and enhanced senses that would be bestowed upon him. They could still be a family…that is if the Electrum did what it was supposed to.

The bats screeching loudly upon Dick entering the cave on his motorcycle, after he'd found it where he'd left it hidden in the city, didn't even comfort him as they usually did. He just felt…sad. Angry. Disappointed, in himself, in how things turned out. He let out a sigh as he entered the main area of the cave. Where the cars were stored as well as the computers, the showers and changing rooms. Tim and Bruce were still up, Damian was probably sent to bed at one because he did have school in the morning…though Tim was probably only up by pure determination despite Bruce's threats that he'd be tired in the morning. Stephanie probably went home and so did Barbara. Dick hoped to enter silently, but his shoe scuffed on the stone floor of the cave,

"Dick? Where have you been all night?" Tim asked, moving around the table where the map of the city was, "Did you find—," he cut himself off at his expression,

"Darren's dead," he stated flatly,

"…Dick…I'm so sorry," Tim said, "I…I should have looked harder, we were out tonight we could have seen him and not even know…why didn't you contac—,"

"It's not your fault Dick," Bruce stated, looking at him with sympathy in his eyes,

"No, it was. It—it…it was—," Dick choked on his own words, he had to brace his hands on the map table and bow his head, "It was my fault. I didn't even notice Cobb when he snuck up on him,"

"Where were you?" Bruce asked,

"Some warehouse on the other side of the city,"

"Why was he there?" Tim asked,

"It's…it's a long story," Dick said,

"We have time,"

"He…well. I found him right before William killed him the first time. We fought and Darren ran away with two Talons chasing him. Cobb knocked me out…didn't kill me though which was odd, but I didn't think of that at the time. I went to Leslie's to get patched up—,"

"—how injured are you?" Bruce demanded, his expression darkening,

"Not that badly given that I just went up against a few dozen Talons," Dick stated,

"A few _dozen?"_ Bruce growled, concern only barely disguising his disappointment in Dick for not calling them to help,

"Darren vanished. I used her computer to hack into the CCTV cameras and I _did_ find him," Dick continued, ignoring Bruce,

"In a warehouse? They aren't usually near traffic lights," Tim sated confused,

"No. That was where Slade took him,"

 _"Slade?"_ they both said darkly. They'd had difficulties with the mercenary on several occasions, especially when Dick was younger and when he'd stayed in Bludhaven on his own,

"Why would he take Darren…did he know he was related to you and—,"

"—Slade is his _father,"_ Dick interrupted,

"…Wow…that's—," Tim started, a slight grin on his face despite the circumstances...as if that piece of information as humorous,

"—don't say it," Dick groaned,

"— _awkward,"_ Tim drawled the word out. Dick glared at him,

"He tried to inject more Mirakuru into Darren's bloodstream to keep the Court from turning him before fleeing the country…but I intervened. I—I thought he was hurting Darren,"

 _"More_ Mirakuru?" Tim questioned, raising an eyebrow, the humor gone from his face. The hologram computer lay forgotten between him and the Bat,

"Apparently the drug altered Slade's blood cells enough for it to be inherited by his children…albeit diluted. You know, half is given by the father and half by the mother," Tim nodded,

"So let me guess, the Talons found you and William managed to kill Darren during the fight?" Tim stated,

"Yeah something like that," Dick stated, let them think what they want. He didn't want to see their expressions if they ever learned that he'd been too busy arguing with Slade to see the attack as it happened,

"So…now William is going to turn Darren into a Talon?" Tim asked, "It's not ideal…but we know where that happens and we can get in there and get him out. It would be a risk, but it could work,"

"We'd need a plan first," Bruce stated, "We don't attempt rescues blind,"

"We know," Dick said slightly irritated that Bruce thought he'd be that reckless,

"How long does it take for someone to be turned into a Talon?" Tim asked,

"I don't know," Dick said, "I'm worried about after…he…he angered William a lot by running away. And Cobb's quick to be angry for the littlest of things. I don't want to imagine how he'll react to what Darren did,"

"He actually _ran away!"_ Tim exclaimed, "That makes this even easier…he doesn't want to be an assassin for the Court so he'll leave their clutches willingly. We won't have to resort to...sort..of kidnapping him!"

"Yeah…easier," Dick muttered. _That is if he isn't pissed at me for basically letting him die,_ Dick thought bitterly to himself. Guilt pulsed through his mind, why _wouldn't_ Darren hate him for it,

"There's also the Powers we'd have to deal with afterward," Bruce said,

"Oh crap. I forgot about them," Dick groaned, clapping a hand to his forehead, "They're Owls apparently,"

"We did always suspect them of that after we learned the Court existed," Tim added,

"They're legally his guardians," Bruce said,

"Only by request of a will, as far as the courts of Gotham knew Darren had no living relative left. That's not as legally binding as blood relatives," Tim said and he glanced at Dick, "You're over twenty-one…you could go to court against the Powers for custody,"

"That's only if the wording of the will allows for blood relatives to do that," Bruce said, "We don't have the will and we'd be outing Dick as a Crowne, the media may just see this as Dick trying to gain more money,"

"Bruce that doesn't even matter. I don't care what the media says, I just want my cousin to be safe and if revealing my relation to the Crowne family does just that then I'm willing to do it,"

"I understand, but Darren may have problems with what they say. He's an assassin, they don't tend to handle their anger well," Bruce stated, having experience on that front in the form of his own son,

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Dick said firmly,

"As for the will, we can still get it…though for all we know the copy the justice system has is a fake. We'd need the original document and I'm pretty sure the Court of Owls has it," Tim said,

"We'll figure this all out after we get Darren away from the Court," Bruce stated, "In the meantime we need to come up with a plan to get in and out with everyone, including Darren, safe." Dick nodded determinedly. He failed once. He wouldn't fail again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking back on this chapter I was worried that Tim and Bruce would be way too out of character, but upon revisiting the chapter as I edited it--and yes I know I said I wasn't going to do that since this story was already written but I couldn't help myself. I just tweaked some things to make it clear who was talking about who and when and added one or two sentences--I found that Tim and Bruce sounded very much themselves. 
> 
> They're both very level-headed, Tim would jump to an analytical standpoint and try to search for a solution to Darren's situation while also thinking ahead to problems such as the Powers and the will. Bruce, while also a similar mindset with Tim, is also a parent and would be concerned for Dick and his wellbeing after witnessing a relative die right in front of him. But of course, he is Bruce and would be a bit subtle upon showing it. Dick, is always a caring person--excluding Ric because I fucking hate that storyline in the comics--and would take this very badly. He would blame himself for what happened to Darren and be upset but also determined to make things right. Dick would also worry that when or if he is brought back, Darren would hate him for what happened...especially since he's worried about how William will react and how their great-grandfather's anger could affect Darren in the aftermath of him running away and Dick finding him. 
> 
> I know this was a very long endnote, but I actually do like explaining my thought processes for chapters. If you're interested let me know and I will continue doing it. 
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter! If you have any questions, comments and concerns PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know some people don't like content warnings at the beginning of the chapter or at all but I thought I'd put this here just in case: this chapter does get a bit graphic so do keep that in mind. Let me know what you guys prefer in the comments. I understand not wanting content warnings because they kind of spoil the chapter but at the same time it's important for some people who might be strongly affected by somewhat darker stuff.

Quiet. Darkness. It felt like he was floating. Like he was everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. Limbo? Purgatory? Something in between life and death…or maybe not. He remembered flickers of light and shadows. Of sounds and shapes…things that were not of Earth. Perhaps an afterlife, he wouldn't know. He wasn't there long enough for everything to sink in. He saw a wisp of blonde hair and a voice whispering _"Darren"_ before a cold invisible hand grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him back…away from that nameless place. He'd fought…he'd wanted to stay. To find out what that place was…who was there waiting for him…all those who he missed and loved. But he knew it wasn't meant to be, so he stopped fighting and let himself be yanked away.

Voices now. Louder…more distinguishable. He felt like everything was spinning…there was a pressure building up within him. Something he needed…something vital…something…he knew he needed to do something…something…

Darren sputtered for air, his chest heaving and his body jerking in response to taking his first breath after so long. That's what he needed to do, he needed to breathe …breathing kept him alive…that's right, _breathing_. Take air in and out, in and out. Darren cracked open his eyes, the light above him was blinding, everyone was talking…or people were talking around the area he was in. It was disorienting. Darren took another breath and forced his stiff neck to turn to the side and he found himself face to face with an Owl mask. Darren cried out…or he tried to…it was like his voice didn't work, it felt like dry sandpaper. _No, no, no, no_. He was back in the Nest. Darren was back with the Court. Where was his father? Where was Dick? Where were Grant and Joseph…what had happened after he'd…after he'd been killed?

He turned his head back to where it had been only to flinch at the lights again. Darren tried to turn onto his side, away from the too-bright lights and the loud noises ringing in his ears. He could barely make out who was with him…he figured William was around here somewhere, and that flooded him with fear. Cobb would be angry with him…so so very angry with him. Darren turned over too much and he tumbled off of the table he'd been on. He landed on the stone floor hard—he felt nothing. He actually felt _nothing_ , no jarring pain from crashing his knees into the stone floor. It was weird. It was odd…Darren didn't like it, he felt numb. Darren heard a chuckle from somewhere in the room. They were _laughing_ at him. The thought boiled his blood and he let out an inhumane growl. It only made them laugh harder. Darren felt angry. He felt _cold_ , Darren wore nothing but shorts and the air around him was freezing. A hand grabbed him by the arm and hoisted him up. Darren panicked and tried to pull his arm out of the person's grasp but nothing happened. He should be strong now…why wasn't he? Darren turned to face the grabber only to jerk his head away again, his eyes stung at the bright light,

"Your eyes will adjust Novice. It will take time. Your strength will take more time to come in, but you will get it," it was Malik. Darren opened his mouth to ask him a question when another hand grabbed Darren by the hair and pulled him from Malik's grasp,

"Do not coddle him," William growled over Darren's ear. It sounded like he was shouting, "He is a deserter. He is lucky we need him still or he would already be frozen or dead," Darren's eyes widened and he squirmed, wishing his strength would hurry and come to him, as William dragged him out of the room. The look on Malik's face was something of pity…fear and pity.

Cobb dragged him down the hallways of Harbor House even as Darren struggled to break free of his grasp. He didn't know where he was being taken, he only knew that his head felt like it was being cracked open and that his eyes were being stabbed by the lights above him,

"Do not worry young Talon. Your eyes and ears will adjust with time. Your strength, on the other hand, will not come for another few minutes," William stated darkly. His voice echoing through the halls tearing through Darren's eardrums. He hated this…Darren hated this…he didn't want this…he wanted to go back to before and redo the whole fight in the warehouse,

"Where…where are the others?" Darren asked his voice rough and dry sounding. But William heard,

"Oh. Them? Your cousin, father, and brothers?" he questioned as he threw Darren into a dimly lit room. He slid across the cement floor and into a pole that was in the center of the room. William stalked towards him and hoisted him upright. He forced Darren's arms above his head and locked them in iron chains,

"They're dead. All of them. No one here to save you now Darren," William let a slow smile fill out his face as he turned his back to Darren. Darren himself felt as if everything turned black and white for a moment. As if everything around him had died. His father…who he'd barely known…his cousin and brothers…gone? It didn't seem real. Maybe Darren was dreaming…maybe this was a nightmare…and maybe Cobb was lying. He doesn't usually use words like 'they're.' William preferred the speech from his time when he was a regular human alive in the world. On the occasion that he did lie, he usually slipped to the more modern tongue. But William eventually realized that and used it to his advantage,

"You're lying," Darren growled, jerking against the chains and finding with frustration that they wouldn't break, not even a little,

"Perhaps I am," William said shrugging, "Perhaps I am not. They will never find you either way," Darren jerked on the chains again, eager to get free and rip his great-grandfather apart limb by limb, "I would not bother Darren. Those chains are built specifically to hold Talons," he turned to face Darren with a dagger in his hand. He twirled it casually,

"You have made a lot of Owls very mad," William said, "You have made me angry. And worse you made the Grandmaster furious. We lost a lot of Talons to get you back,"

"You didn't need to do that," Darren growled, "you could have just made up some story about my death and the Owls could just take my inheritance,"

"That is not all they are after," William growled, "And you know it,"

"They want an Owl and a Talon," Darren stated, eyeing the dagger warily,

"And they cannot have that without complete obedience," William sneered, jamming the dagger into Darren's shoulder. Darren screamed, not expecting the fiery pain that spread through the wounded area. It was worse than the Mirakuru, it was worse than anything Darren had ever experienced, "You ran away," William hissed, "Like a pathetic coward," he stabbed Darren again, only this time along one of his ribs, leaving a long deep stinging cut. He yelled in pain, he pulled and yanked and used all his strength to break free of the chains but nothing happened. It was the Serum, it weakened him as well as inflicted pain,

"T-t-too m-much will k-kill—,"

"—Oh no. Not just yet Darren. You still have to go through the Labyrinth. This is the lowest concentration we have. After all, the show must go on," Darren took in a shuddering breath that cut off as William cut along another rib, if he went any deeper he'd have punctured Darren's lung. He yelled again, every breath brought fire to his wounds. They weren't healing either, or at least they healed way too slow for a Talon. Darren wouldn't survive the Labyrinth, whoever was in there with him would kill him,

"I-it w-would be f-for n-nothing," he ground out,

"No. It would not be for nothing," William sneered, cutting along another rib, making Darren cry out in pain again. He could feel blood seep down his wrists where the chains cut into them harshly. William leaned in close, raising the dagger to eye level, "because you are going to win,"

"Not like this," Darren said, finally clearly for the first time since waking up. William chuckled,

"This is survival. You will survive and you will kill to do just that,"

" _No!_ I won't kill for you! _Ever!"_

"You know, your father never gave up his mercenary shtick and his wife shot him in the eye for it. The thing never grew back…how about we make you two match?" William asked, inching the dagger closer to Darren's eye. He glared at the Talon, not flinching. He wouldn't give Cobb the satisfaction. Right as Darren felt the impulse to blink, William switched course and plunged the blade along his rib again, scraping the bone making Darren scream louder than before. Everything before had just been pain, the new wound was agony. Four cuts along his ribs bleeding down his bare chest, gushing each time he brought air into his lungs. It felt like his lungs burned each time. William let out a chuckle before hissing,

"Will you obey?"

"No," Darren monotoned, and William glared at him,

"I am trying to _help_ you, Darren. You need to play a little harder, you are a Talon now, things are expected of you. Will you obey?"

"No!" Darren snapped,

"Last chance heir. Will. You. _Obey!"_ they were nose to nose,

 _"No!"_ Darren growled. William let out a snarl before undoing the chains and throwing Darren down onto the cold hard floor…and it actually hurt this time, his knees painfully scraped against the flooring. He landed eagle spread, the ground ice against his cheek,

"As much as you believe it is your choice what you can become in Gotham—," William started as he plunged a dagger through Darren's splayed left hand. He screamed loudly, he couldn't help it, the pain was too much…it was indescribable. Darren tried to jerk the dagger loose, but it was through the floor and he was too wounded to use any gifted strength he had, "—it is important to understand that your choice is _not_ yours. Not where your service to the Court is concerned," William kicked his other hand, which Darren had tried to pull out of his reach, out away from his body and plunged a second dagger into it,

"We _own_ you Darren. You are a weapon. You are _our_ weapon. You were bred to be one, even if you were meant to only be a spare. You were meant to become an Owl, and Richard the Talon. A duo of the Court in a way. But since we lost the would-be-Talon, why not make you both? You were meant to _join_ the two and become the ultimate assassin. One in plain sight. One no one would suspect, and you are throwing it all away on a whimsical fantasy that your father and cousin can protect you. The truth of the matter is nothing can protect you from _yourself_. You were trained to kill and even if you fought against it…it is still embedded in your muscle memory. It is still _instinct_ to you, it is something you can never escape and that is why even if you stay with Richard, you will always be estranged from him. The one who kills,"

"Not….t-t-true," Darren mumbled into the floor, "I-I'd b-be free from…you," William laughed,

"You think you can fly free? Do you think you can wear the bat symbol? The others may have Robin's wings but you…yours will always be an owls. Perhaps I will make sure you remember that?" William mused, crouching down next to him, "A permanent memory that you are ours, that no matter what anyone tells you, flying free is only a beautiful lie," Darren heard the swish as a third dagger was drawn and he squirmed and bucked trying to pry his hands free with the movements, he was terribly injured and the squirming didn't do much as William shoved a knee in the small of his back to keep him still and a hand on his head to keep him from jerking about as he started to carve into Darren's back.

Darren screamed, he wailed. He imagined everyone could hear him throughout Harbor House. He tried to fight, he tried to calm himself and kick William back, but his great-grandfather just continued carving. The Serum caused Darren's nerves to sear like acid, he screamed and screamed and screamed, his voice raw and his throat hurt, burned with bile and strained vocal cords. Darren had always imagined what becoming a Talon would be like…he never imagined this,

"Stop squirming, you will ruin my masterpiece," William chided, forcing Darren's face into the concrete harder as he cut across the back of his neck and down his shoulder and down to the back of his elbow where he ended with jagged points in a mock tip of a wing before slicing his way back and down to his lower back, bringing it up to the center of his spine and down to the other side, creating a mirror to the other bloody jagged wing. William stood, admiring his crude work of art,

"It is missing some finer details. I can fix that!"

"No!" Darren found himself saying, "No! _Please!"_ Everything hurt, the room was spinning. William had gone far with his punishments sometimes…but never like this,

"Will you obey the Owls? Will you serve the Court?" William demanded, the sound of a whip snapping echoed behind him and Darren flinched,

"Yes! Yes! I will. I'll do whatever you say! Just stop! Please just _stop!"_ Darren screamed, he clenched his teeth against the pain as William stood considering,

"…I do not believe you, Darren," he said and let the whip fly. Darren's screams turned muffled as he bit his lip so hard it bleed, he kept biting it until William finally stopped. Darren was used to this sort of punishment, though after the first two times he stopped doing whatever caused him to receive it. Darren counted in his head silently, a practiced way to pass the time as each lash was carved into his back by the sharp ends of the whip, hoping the latest slash would be the last. It had been a while since Darren felt the sting of a whip…though never with serum on the ends…it burned on his back, like acid...as if the wounds across his back bubbled and hissed in the stale air of the room. Over and over again, retracing older wounds, etching them deeper and deeper into Darren's back...Darren made it to thirty before a pause allowed him the chance to breathe. William walked in front of Darren and crouched down right there, the whip he held dripping with Darren's blood. He had to look away from it, the sight was too gruesome. William grabbed his chin and forced Darren to look at both him and the whip,

"I know you may hate me. But this is for your own good. I am pretty sure you will heal…though for all I know I have put a lot of Serum in your system. I guess we will find out after you kill your opponent in the Labyrinth," William shrugged as Darren's eyes widened,

"Wha—?"

"The amount of Serum accumulates over time. It takes a bit for it to get out of your system. There could be too much, just enough or it could all just be a matter of time. My advice Darren?" a pause and a small smirk formed on William's face, _"Kill them quickly,"_ with that he released his chin and yanked the dagger out of his right hand, causing an involuntary cry of pain, " _Pathetic._ Take the other one out yourself," William stood and walked over to the door and leaned against it, watching, "Any day now?" Darren glared at his great-grandfather, deciding that someday soon, he's going to kill the man. William lived a long life. He deserved it for all the pain he caused Darren's family. All the death and decay…all the tarnished legacies of the past. But in Darren's weakened state, he'd only anger Cobb further, so Darren silently struggled to sit up slightly. His chest burning and his back stinging harshly as he weakly grasped the dagger in his left hand and pulled it out, only wincing from the pain this time,

"Atta boy," William said grinning as he walked over and hoisted Darren up and forced him into a Talon suit. The material against his open wounds caused them to pulse with pain so great he'd almost begged William to let him use bandages to cover them, but he knew his great-grandfather wouldn't let him. He let William strap a short sword to his belt along with a dagger and a throwing knife sash over his shoulder before guiding him down into the abyss below Harbor House, down down and even farther down to the entrance of the Labyrinth,

"Good luck my heir," William said handing him a Talon mask. Darren just held it limply in his grasp, it hurt to curl his fingers, as he was shoved into the blindingly white-walled labyrinth, the door slamming shut and locking behind him.

Darren took a step forward and nearly fell over, the room was spinning again…he'd lost a lot of blood. Could a Talon die from blood loss? Was that possible? If Darren didn't die again from blood loss he'd die from the possibly lethal concentration of Serum in his system. He heard laugher again from up above where the Owls were watching, waiting. He could see them, their masks white against the blackness and he glared down at the Talon mask he held. He could see William and the other Talon's ancestor on the platform above, watching silently. Darren forced himself to move forward, to a wall of the Labyrinth, and spear the Owl mask through the eyehole with a dagger and left it there hanging before moving on.

It didn't take long before Darren found a few puddles of blood, someone had died here already. That didn't bode well. He continued along the way taking a right and then a left, he listened hard to the surrounding area, but he knew his hearing would be weakened by the Serum, that was a big disadvantage. An old Talon would be used to the enhancement and be able to use it better. Darren turned another corner and found himself in a room where a giant fountain stood, spilling water with an owl statue at its center. He walked to the center of the room before he heard a scuff from the other end. Darren considered running back, away…but he didn't want to hear the Owls' laughter again and he especially didn't want to get forced into cold storage any longer than he probably already was. Darren turned, standing his ground, fists clenched painfully only to let them fall loose at his side in shock as his opponent spoke,

"Darren?"

_"Ash?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know, looking back this chapter actually wasn't as bad as some of my uh...later ones are, especially as this series continues...but I hope you liked it? I also stand by putting in a small content warning at the beginning...though maybe this chapter didn't necessarily need it. Oh well! Part of me hates writing these kinds of chapters, the other part wants to laugh maniacally in the corner XD.
> 
> Any questions comments or concerns PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT. I know I've already written most of this series and have told you guys as much but I do love hearing other peoples' thoughts, it lets me know people are actually reading this story and honestly improvements can be made at any point in writing espeically when dealing with fanfics.


	16. Chapter 16

Dick crouched on a rooftop across from the mansion Harbor House. He was practically vibrating with anticipation. He needed to get in there, who knows what could be happening right now at that very minute…at that very second…to his cousin. Tim crouched next to him, Bruce on his other side and Damian next to his father. Batgirl and Spoiler would go out patrolling that night, Jason would as well, in his own way. They had a mutual understanding. Jason may not adhere to Bruce's ideals but when he worked with the rest of the family, he didn't kill. They were staking out the building. It had been hours since Darren had been killed. Dick hadn't gotten any sleep and had focused only on going over and over the blueprints of the Harbor House with Bruce and Tim.

"Remember, this is strictly in and out. We get Darren as quietly as possible and we leave as quietly as possible. No engaging with the enemy," Bruce stated to the three of them,

"Got it," Tim said, "From what I figured, they'd be underground, in the deeper basement of the house. That's where you believe the Labyrinth is from when you were captive down there," Bruce nodded silently, glaring at the seemingly run down and quiet house,

"Oh what are _you_ doing _here?"_ A voice growled, they whirled around to find Slade, Grant, and Joseph standing behind them. All armed to the teeth and glaring at the vigilantes,

"What do you _think_ we're doing here?" Dick growled,

"Trying to rescue my son," Slade stated evenly, "That won't be necessary. We can handle this ourselves,"

"You may be able to handle this but I'm pretty sure Darren wouldn't want to go anywhere with you,"

"I'm his father. I'm sure what happened in the past few hours won't matter once I get him out and away from this poisonous city,"

"You forfeited any right to try and be anything close to a father to him the moment you let the Court get their hands on him!" Dick snapped, stepping forward,

"Okay…let's not do this right now," Tim stated softly, pulling Dick back by the arm, "We're here to get Darren out of this building and away from the Court. That's it. Arguing out here won't help him,"

"Then let's stop talking and get in there!" Grant growled to his father and brother,

"We've already staked this place out and came up with a strategic plan. _We'll_ go in and get him," Dick stated, "Batman, we're wasting time with them,"

"Agreed," Bruce stated, glaring at Deathstroke, "But more numbers can be helpful,"

"Are you seriously suggesting a team-up!?" Dick asked incredulously,

"It's logical," Damian declared, "Annoying, but logical. There's a chance we'll be fighting to get Darren out of there. We're walking into their headquarters, there's bound to be defenses,"

"This is crazy!" Dick cried,

"Nightwing. Don't make this about the past," Tim stated,

"We'll go in together," Bruce declared,

"But we bring Darren back to the _cave_. He may be injured or out of it…we don't know what initiation process they have for newly made Talons," Dick declared, _and William was furious at him for running away_ he added silently to himself. The pit in his stomach tightened with worry,

"If Darren wishes it, you can see him later. As of now, what happens afterward …after he himself says he wants to see you…will be discussed then. Not now by either of you," Bruce said, glaring over at Slade and glancing over to Dick,

"Very well," Slade said grudgingly giving them a curt nod,

"…Nightwing?" Bruce stated, turning to him. Nightwing glared over at the orange and black-masked man with his arms crossed,

"Fine," he said with a sigh. Nightwing turned to face the house again, "Let's get this over with." That said they all leapt into action.

* * *

"This has to be a mistake," Darren stated, taking a step away from his friend. Someone he'd grown up with, a friendly face amongst the hardship he was forced to endure. Someone who in all shape, form, and essence was his brother. Ash was standing across from him. Clad head to toe in armor, the armor of a Talon. He wore the mask too, a Talon mask with orange-colored eye coverings. It looked just like all the others Darren saw in his nightmares. He couldn't believe it, they couldn't expect them to do this to each other. They couldn't expect them to fight each other…even if they'd done just that most of their lives and that was only sparring...they couldn't expect them to _kill_ each other,

"Is this some sort of joke!" Darren yelled up to the platform where William and the other Talon—Callum—stood bathed in lights so bright he could barely see them, "He's not an old Talon!"

"He is older than you," William stated, "He was turned a week ago, your whole year was turned while you were in Blackout," Darren thought back to when he'd seen Asher in the hallway the night he escaped…he hadn't processed how pale he looked, how awkward his movements were…how he seemed to forcefully restrain himself while running with the others. Asher had been a Talon then and Darren hadn't even noticed, _"Now fight!"_ William growled.

Darren took a step forward, his leg nearly buckling at the effort and weight. He wouldn't win this fight. Whether William knew this or cared was unclear. He claimed the Court needed him yet he tortured Darren and is now making him face an opponent in the Labyrinth he couldn't defeat nor wanted to,

"I won't fight you," Darren said. Unbuckling his sword and chucking it back over his head the way he'd come into the room. He did the same with his daggers,

"What are you doing you fool?" William muttered, but Darren heard him. Maybe his hearing was still active even with all the poison in Darren's veins,

"Asher. Do it. You wanted a purpose. This is it. Serve us. _Kill him_ ," Callum sneered down at Darren's friend. Asher looked up at Callum, then back at Darren,

"Ash. You don't have to do this. You don't need them. We can escape. We can get away…Calvin did it. He hasn't been found…it's _possible!"_ Darren stated, raising his hands in a placating manner. Asher looked up at Callum again,

"You need us boy. Remember who took you off those streets…where no one gave a damn about you…and made you something incredible, something unstoppable—something powerful. We gave you that, we gave you—and will give you—purpose," Asher looked back at Darren before unsheathing his sword,

"Asher! No—wait—!" Darren stated but Asher moved…and blurred almost too fast for Darren to track. Maybe it was the Mirakuru in his blood that allowed him to track Asher as he moved from one end of the room to the other. Maybe the Mirakuru was healing him from the Serum, maybe he was just a good fighter Darren didn't know. Darren dodged the first swipe of the sword and the second, the third he blocked using his forearm. The armored gauntlet creating sparks as the sword hit it. Darren balked at the pain he felt shudder up his body, he gagged and nearly fell over—Mirakuru was not healing him…only preventing the Serum from killing him outright—he could feel it searing his nerves and pulsing through his body,

"Asher—," Darren whispered, "— _don't_ do this,"

"I—I—I'm sorry…I have to," Ash muttered back, swiping for Darren's head. He rolled under the swipe and away from Asher,

"Come on you stupid pathetic boy!" William yelled from above, "Kill him!"

"And how is he to do that when you virtually crippled him with your overzealous punishment?" Callum snarled triumphantly. William glared at the other Talon,

 _"…Shut up,"_ he snarled. Darren would have laughed at the interaction if his best friend wasn't trying to kill him. Asher tried to swipe at him again but Darren threw up his leg and kicked the sword out of his hand. It flew high into the air, so high it got stuck on one of the support beams…it didn't come down. Darren and Ash looked away from the ceiling and back at each other before Ash started tossing throwing daggers. Darren flipped away and dodged using every ounce of skill that kept him moving and out of the daggers range. He landed to Asher's right, sliding a little and forcing him to brace his hands on the floor. The room was spinning, it was hard to breathe. The respiration caused by so much movement was making the Serum circulate faster,

"Asher…please," Darren muttered, he didn't like begging…but he was in so much pain. Darren couldn't keep dodging and he couldn't kill his friend even if he wanted to…even if it would end his suffering,

"There's no place for me out there," Asher stated, "I belong _here,"_ he flexed his wrists and iron Talon claws extended from the tips of his gloves and he stalked towards Darren. With a huff of a breath, Darren flexed his own wrists and raised the taloned claw tips to block Asher's attack,

"I helped you," Darren panted, blocking another attack, "I fed you…I kept you alive all those years when no one else cared if you lived or died. I helped you catch Callum's eye in training which prompted him to make you his heir," he ducked under another swipe for his head and blocked another with his left forearm. The sharp blades broke through the armor, sending another shot of pain up and down his arm. There was Serum on the tips…a painful amount…a deadly amount. Darren paid no mind though, "Why?" he asked, his eyes pleading for help,

"I'm sorry. I don't want to do this," Asher whispered even as he threw another blow that Darren barely blocked. He was slowing…it was getting harder to focus. The edges of his vision were starting to blacken and his feet were dragging on the ground each time he moved,

"Then don't. We're in the maze…Batman escaped once…we can ourselves,"

"I—I can't just leave!"

"Why not!"

"This—they—," he started, before letting out a frustrated growl, "This place is my home!" he shoved him away and tried to pounce on top of him as Darren stumbled back, "It's the only home I know. It's the only place that thought I could be better than I was. They've earned my loyalty. I have a purpose here. I have a calling…what do you have out there that's so great, so important? What would cause you to balk at the mere aspect of killing someone," Darren darted out of the way, tripping his friend as he sailed past. Asher only stumbled forward, nearly on his face, before changing directions and stomping towards Darren who was barely keeping his feet under him. His wounds burned and seared, it felt like his body was on fire,

"Not just killing someone," Darren stated, "Killing _you_. You're my best friend," Asher stopped in his advance,

"I know," he whispered, "I know I am…you are to me too,"

" _I_ could be your home. You don't need them…I have people who could give you a home too," Darren stated, "You don't _need_ to do this," Ash sighed and shook his head,

"When will you learn Darren? Your people are _not_ my people," he threw himself forward, trying to football tackle Darren to the floor again but his feet were too close, he tripped over himself and instead of tackling Darren, fell on him. Darren instinctively grabbed at Ash and flipped them so that he wouldn't land on his wounds…he was trained to do this if wounded, he was trained to protect himself it was instinct...and he'd done the same when Derek had tackled him not so long ago…only Darren wasn't at full strength. He was uncoordinated and near blinded by pain. Almost as if in slow motion Asher hit the floor first and Darren, a hand thrown out in front of him landed on top of him, his iron taloned tipped gloved hand slashing deeply and heavily down and into Asher's chest. Everything slowed down, he could see the shock and surprise in Ash's eyes. Darren could see the pain in them too as the Serum entered his heart and started to flood through his bloodstream. Almost immediately blood stained his teeth and mouth red as gapped, trying to speak,

"No—no…n—n—no!" Darren moaned, "No! _Not this!_ _No!"_ he rolled off Ash and gathered his small friend into his arms. His only friend, the only person who listened to him ramble about his mother when he missed her, who talked about running away and never returning even when that meant leaving him behind. The only person he ever shared candy and snacks from the Mortal World with,

"I'm sorry. I-I-I'm s-s-so sorry," tears fell down his face. His own pain forgotten. Asher…surprisingly still aware clutched at the Talon armor Darren wore,

"I-i-it's…o-okay. I-I'm f-free now," Ash said, "I-I'm glad i-it was you…w-who opened—m-my cage. I-I never w-anted to kill you, o-o-or s-serve them…n-not re-ally. I-I…see that, n-now. T-thank y-you….I…I… _free,"_ his brown eyes lost their light. Ash's expression became slack and Darren sat there sobbing for the only friend he'd ever truly known,

"Oh for the love of all—Darren! _Knock it off!"_ William snarled from above, "Congratulations heir. You get to live! Now quit pathetically crying over your victory and take it like Talon!" he slammed his fist on the metal railing, the force sending shudders throughout the room. The sword from the ceiling fell from its spot, landing point first into the ground, the metal reflecting Darren's eyes. He could see his tears and the pain from his grandfather's torture. The grief of all that happened. William's words echoed in his head and the pain in his eyes turned to rage. Darren rose to his feet,

"That is it. Good boy," William called from above, "I am honored to present to you the victo—," Darren grasped the hilt of the sword and with the strength and willpower of his newfound wrath, leapt up to where the Grandmaster sat watching. He landed on the arms of the chair, the man in the seat frozen by surprise,

"Ash sends his regards." Darren growled, separating the Grandmaster of the Court of Owl's head from his body with one smooth swipe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter!!! As always if you have any questions, comments or concerns PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT. I really do love hearing your thoughts!


	17. Chapter 17

Red was everywhere. It flashed out of the corner of Darren's eye, it was on the floors, it was on his sword, it was on his face and hands and clothes. It was all over the place...the smell stuck in his nose on his skin…but he didn't care. Darren sprinted through the halls of Harbor House, slashing, stabbing and slicing at everything that moved. It didn't matter who it was, he was angry. No, Darren was furious and he wanted— _needed—_ revenge. They ruined everything. They killed his mother, they ruined his childhood, they turned him into the monster he never wanted to become. They forced Darren to kill his best friend, on the whimsical promise of life. What a lie that was. How would they cure him of the Serum that fired through his veins? There was no way to cure him, Darren had nothing to lose. He had no one coming for him, especially if what William said was true…if his father, cousin, and brothers were truly dead. So he continued his rampage, he continued fighting his way through the running and screaming Owls, tearing through the Talons that tried to stop him. He was fueled by pure rage and vengeance, they couldn't stop him. Darren wanted them mad it should have been him, not Asher, on the floor of the Labyrinth,

"What are you _doing!"_ a voice snarled in front of him. Darren blinked unsteadily through the haze of the Serum and the sounds of screaming coursing through Harbor House, it was Cobb, his great-grandfather looked furious as well, "Everything I have done was for you. All that preparation and effort to get you to become one of the greatest Talons in history and you throw it all away? There will be no coming back from this _heir!"_ Darren pointed the sword at his great-grandfather, a dark glare on his face,

"You've done nothing for me. You made me kill my best friend, you killed my cousin and father and brothers…you killed _me!_ You made me fear myself and what I could do… _ha_ , I even feared _you_. But not anymore. I _hate_ you. I always have. I want you dead," Darren tried to take a step forward but stumbled, and William let out an amused laugh,

"There is a cure. I know you thought this would be it, maybe you even _wanted_ such an end…if had you done your duty, the Owls would have rewarded you. They would have healed you and welcomed you with open arms. Too bad you threw that all away on rage and vengeance,"

"At least I've crippled the Court," Darren mumbled, the room was spinning heavily, it was hurting to breathe…every breath stung like a paper cut. He swayed where he stood, his back burned…alarms blared too loudly for him to stand and Owls ran past in fear their porcelain white masks flashing by like phantoms in the shadows, 

"You have barely clipped a wing," Cobb sneered, raising his own sword. Darren's rested limply at his side, he hadn't noticed when he dropped his arm, "Goodbye heir…maybe I will find a street rat with more common sense than you," he raised the sword ready for the fatal blow. Darren merely stared as it started to come down…only for a black blur to swoop down and tackle William out of the way. His sword clattering on the floor as Darren toppled to his knees.

* * *

It was pandemonium inside Harbor House. The minute they all entered alarms sounded and yelling could be heard followed by shouting. This, of course, prompted Damian to sneer that it was 'all Drake's fault' as if the alarms were meant for them, Dick assumed differently his anxiety intensifying as they turned their attention to the commotion. Instead of letting Damian and Tim argue about the alarms, they decided to form a plan. They all split up. Slade and his sons off to one side of Harbor House, Bruce and his sons to another, it was the best way to keep any past grievances from interfering with their goal. As soon as they started to explore the lower levels the first of the Owls started racing towards them. They braced themselves expecting a fight, but they only sprinted by them, screaming and yelling at each other. Mothers holding tightly onto their child's hand, their Owl masks still in place. Some Talons guided them out and down the hallways, ignoring the Bats completely, their attention fully on their prime directive: protect the Owls at all cost. The Bats continued downwards, there was no need to attack anyone who didn't first fight them; the Bats equally ignored the Talons and Owls keeping their focus for their own prime directive, find Darren. Beyond the fleeing Owls led the Bats to a hallway full of dead bodies. Dick was not expecting such a gruesome sight, though he kept his face neutral, it unnerved him. Owls and Talons strewn across the room, puddles of blood pooling around them turning the ground slick. There were stains on the walls and they dripped down the paintings hung up of old Grandmasters and Owls from decades ago. The Bats hurried down the hallway on alert their weapons at the ready, there was nothing else they could do for those already dead though they didn't know what the bodies meant…it probably wasn't good.

At the end of the hallway they found only two people. William and Darren. Darren swayed where he stood, hopelessness in his eyes yet also undeniable rage. A bloody sword hung loosely at his side though Cobb raised his own sword over his head,

"Darren!" Dick yelled, racing forward. The fear of William killing Darren again outweighed the one second of profound relief he felt at actually seeing Darren alive and standing. Batman was faster. He leapt up and knocked William out of the way. Damian and Tim sprinted over to help him keep the Talon at bay while Dick ran over to his cousin who had fallen to his knees,

"He little cuz," he said kneeling next to Darren. He was covered in blood…Dick didn't know whether it was his or not…and didn't like what that implied if it wasn't. Darren raised his head, his eyes red and unfocused,

"D-Dick?" he asked, he sounded so surprised to see him, "I-I I thought you were dead…a-am I dead?"

"No! I'm _here_ , I promise. You're here, you're _alive!_ You can't get rid of me that easily," Dick looked up and around the wide, long hallway. William and the others were still fighting, but who knew how long until his backup came,

"W-w-where's my dad?" Darren asked, blinking sluggishly,

"Somewhere here…annoyingly," Dick muttered, "Can you stand. We need to get out of here,"

"N-no," Darren drawled. He slumped back over…letting out a thick wet cough. Something spattered the rug on the floor beneath him, "Poisoned," Dick grabbed Darren's face in his hand and forced him to look at him,

"What? What _kind_ of poison, hey…hey…Darren stay with me here," Dick lightly smacked his cousin's face but Darren only pulled away from him and coughed to the side. Blood spattered the ground…he was coughing up _blood_. Dick didn't wait another second after that. He grabbed Darren and tried to pick him up, but Darren squirmed out of his grasp and tried to roll over towards his sword,

"Darren we need to go. You're dying!" Dick cried trying to hoist him up, maybe he wanted to walk,

"N-no," Darren groaned weakly, becoming dead weight so Dick was forced to lower him to the ground again. Darren smacked the floor with a gloved hand and left a bloody handprint on the stone. He was trying to reach the sword's hilt,

"A little help here!?" Dick asked as Tim was thrown to the ground nearby,

"A little busy here!" his brother snapped back tossing a batarang at William, before rolling away,

"Take the sword idiot!" Damian called as he dodged a sword swipe, "If you can't get him to leave without it, take it with us. It must mean something," Dick sighed but scooped up the sword and handed it to Tim as he picked up Darren, who clearly could not actually walk on his own, before turning and running back the way they came,

"We need to leave now!" he yelled at Bruce and Damian, who were still keeping Cobb occupied. They heard him and threw smoke pellets and flashbangs to at least confuse William and any other Talon for a moment. They all retreated to the sound of William's laughter,

"You cannot save him. He is as good as dead!" Cobb crowed, _"Again!"_ Dick chose to ignore his great-grandfather. He would save his cousin if it was the last thing he ever did. They sprinted out of the house and Batman called the batmobile over to their location leaving Harbor House and the horrors from within in the dust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of my chapters in the first story of this series are really rather short, but they lengthen as the series progress. I hope you liked this chapter!! As always any questions comments or concerns PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT. I would really like to hear opinions on how this story is going and thoughts on what has occurred. Hearing from you guys really makes my day and will probably help me as a writer.


	18. Chapter 18

The batmobile sped through the streets of Gotham, swerving ever so often to avoid hitting a pedestrian who was still roaming the streets so late at night. Batman was up front with Damian. Dick and Tim were in the back, Darren laid out on the seats while they tried to peel the blood saturated and stiff Talon suit off of him. The bloody sword was discarded off to the side…it was clear something had happened in the time Darren had been resurrected to his rescue, and now he was dying _again_ ,

"What did they do to him?" Tim muttered as he pried the gloves off of his hands to reveal a blood-caked hand with a deep gash on the back, _"Shit,_ they stabbed right through his hand," he added after he turned it to look at the palm, "Check the other," Tim told Dick. He did, it was covered in blood and had a similar gash on it,

"How soon will we reach the cave?" Dick asked,

"Ten minutes," Batman replied gruffly,

"Try to get there in five," Dick replied, "I don't know what poison they put in him…we…we might not have that long,"

"Don't think like that," Tim stated, "Help me lift him up, maybe that will make it easier to get the suit off," Dick moved to hoist his unconscious cousin up only to stop as the car came to a jarring halt, flinging not only him but Tim into the two front seats,

"What gives?" Tim groaned, rubbing his head as he looked over at Bruce with an annoyed expression,

"Something's stopped us _obviously,"_ Damian growled, Dick looked out the windshield to see someone standing in front of the car with their foot on the front bumper,

"Is it Slade?" Dick asked the headlight's glare made it hard to see the person's face,

"No," was the stranger's response…Dick was surprised they could hear him…but then he saw the suit he wore. It was a Talon, only he wore no mask,

"Get rid of him. He's a Talon," Dick said, "Find another route, Darren can't get caught by them again,"

"Thank you, Sherlock," Damian started rolling his eyes under his mask no doubt, Dick only mustered a brief glare at Robin before the stranger spoke again,

"If you want Darren to live you'll let me in that car," All four of the car's occupants shared a glance before Batman sighed and opened the doors,

"Who are you?" Dick demanded as soon as the person entered and the car started again,

"I'm Calvin Rose. A deserter," was all he said as he knelt beside Darren, "Geez kid…what the hell did he do to you? Malik told me it was bad…but this…" he shook his head before reaching over and squeezing Darren's nose closed,

"Hey! What are you—,"

"I'm waking him up, relax! It's a healing mechanism we are taught. Sleep helps us heal and retain energy, he's instinctively doing that now but I need him awake to help him. He's a nose breather so this is the easiest way to wake him up," a moment later Darren sputtered and his eyes flew open. Darren flailed briefly, his eyes wheeling around in panic before settling on Calvin,

"Calvin?" he questioned before violently coughing,

"I'm here kid. How much Serum did they use?" Calvin asked helping Darren sit up slightly,

"Dunno," Darren muttered, blinking his eyes, almost nodding off,

"Don't do that," Calvin stated softly, smacking his cheek lightly to keep him awake, "Did they use a dagger or whip?"

"…Both," Dick flinched at that, and Tim narrowed his eyes in anger. The Talons—no _William_ —tortured him not only with a dagger but with a _whip?_ What was wrong with them,

"And they put you through the Labyrinth?" Calvin asked incredulously. Darren nodded before coughing again, a trail of red leaking from his mouth, "How are you still alive?"

"Got my dad to thank 'or that," Darren slurred, his head slumping against Calvin's shoulder. Calvin laid him back down before reaching into his back pouch pocket and extracting a syringe,

"What are you doing with that?" Dick questioned, it was filled with a pale yellow liquid,

"Curing him. Hopefully, this is enough,"

"Curing him of _what?"_ Tim asked, "We need to know, in case this happens again." Ever thinking of the future,

"Second to Electrum, the Owls also created the Serum. A drug that can kill us. I won't go into the gory details, but it's a painful nasty death. At lower concentrations, it will inflict agonizing pain and sometimes a Talon can heal from it on their own though usually, they succumb to overexposure but sometimes…in Darren's case…too much is used and instead of being able to heal they are slowly and painfully killed," he added more of the liquid to the syringe before gently tilting Darren's head and injecting the liquid into the side of his neck, "They—well one Owl, only one knows the formula to keep knowledge of it a secret—created a Cure for the purpose of healing a near-dead Talon they actually didn't wish dead. Cobb still needed Darren…but I guess he went too far. I managed to steal a few before leaving the Court's service,"

"Will Darren recover fully?" Tim questioned, a frown marred his face though he seemed intrigued by the concept of the Serum and the Cure or perhaps really by the underlying mechanism of control the Owls instill because of such a poison and the reward of a cure if the Talons obeyed. How the Court operated had always been slightly out of reach for the Bats, it was clear they needed to know more to fully destroy the Court of Owls and their influence over Gotham,

"Probably…hopefully the Cure won't be nullified by the Mirakuru in his blood, maybe the Mirakuru will aid it. I cannot tell. Only time will. It will be gradual. He'll need medical attention for any wounds inflicted by Serum dipped weapons. His healing ability will be non-operational until the Serum is out of his system and infection can be potentially deadly too. The Cure will keep the Serum from killing him outright but he will be in pain until it is flushed out by the Cure. It shouldn't take that long for that to happen though, once his eyes turn gold—a sign of a healing Talon—it means he's healing on his own and that's a good thing. Then his strength, speed, and enhanced senses will return…he'll need help with those. He was too new to learn how to handle each of them,"

"We'll help him," Tim agreed,

"Thank you," Dick added,

"Here are some more syringes with the Cure…should what I gave him not be enough or he ever encounters the Court again. Make sure he's well protected…the Owls won't forgive him for what he's done, nor will William," Calvin ruffled Darren's hair once before turning to Batman, "I'm done. I've done what I came here to do. Let me out. I'll try to distract any Talons that try to follow you. They'd want me just as much as him," that said Batman slowed the car and Calvin jumped out before they continued on their way and sped into the cave to where Alfred was waiting dutifully with medical supplies and a gurney. They had a lot of work to do. Darren wasn't out of the park just yet.

* * *

Dick lifted Darren from the back seats and carried him over to Alfred and the gurney. He set him down and immediately Alfred set to work. He rolled him over to the med-bay of the cave and started hooking him up to the different monitors set out about the area. He shined a light into his eyes and took his pulse, a frown marring his features,

"His pulse is slow…almost too slow," he murmured,

"Most Talons have a slow heart rate," Bruce said, coming up to stand next to Dick, "When I had Cobb on ice down here the heart monitor for him was pretty much the same,"

"It's probably a Talon thing…it most likely has to do with why they don't do well in the cold," Tim said, putting some medical supplies down next to the cot Darren was on, "Alfred, we need to do something about those hands. There could be nerve damage and without his healing ability it will just get worse," Alfred nodded and started inspecting his hands,

"It is despicable what they did to him. He's only fourteen…a _child,"_ he stated angrily, shaking his head as he started threading a needle to stitch up Darren's wounded hands, "We'll start a morphine drip, as well as a sedative. It will keep him from experiencing pain and allow him to heal through sleeping if what that Rose character said is true," Tim nodded and moved to grab an IV stand,

"Master Bruce and Master Dick, get the suit off of him. I doubt waking up in it would be good for him and we need to make sure there aren't any other wounds to be inspected,"

"There are. Apparently Cobb used a whip on him," Damian stated from the entrance, seemingly unsure of what to do. Bruce hoisted Darren up and Dick started pulling off the armored suit from the front bit by bit. It was stiff and wet with blood in certain places. Darren let out a muffled groan of pain,

"Sorry, buddy. We need to get you fixed up, but we can't do that with this suit still on," Dick muttered softly to him. The morphine still hadn't kicked in yet, nor the sedative, "You might need to bump up whatever you gave him Alfie. Talon's metabolisms are fast. He almost shook off a horse tranquilizer on just Mirakuru, I bet he'll shake off this stuff even faster now with Electrum," they finally got the suit off up to his waist, which would make it easier for Alfred to work, most of his wounds seem to be on his upper body. Deep jagged cuts, intended for pain, were carved along four of Darren's ribs, two on either side. One still leaked blood, and his breath hitched at them being exposed to open air. A wound on his shoulder still trickled blood as well. Bruce was still holding Darren up, and Tim, who was fiddling with the morphine and sedative drips behind him let out a surprised gasp,

"Oh my God," he said, his eyes wide—he'd taken off his mask once in the cave—,

"What? What is it?" Dick asked, moving to stand near where he was only to stop in shock, "W-what is _that?"_ jagged whip slashes decorated his back, but that wasn't just what horrified him. It was the seemingly artful design carved into his cousin's back,

"I-I…I think they're _wings,"_ Tim whispered in horrified shock,

"Flip him onto his back. The wounds on his front can wait," Alfred said, placing a few square pads of gauze over the wounds on Darren's chest to keep any blood from leaking out onto the table and making it slick. Alfred had what Dick called 'the doctor face' on. The face the Butler reserved for when the medical attention the person needed was far more important than his emotions at the moment and he looked very serious and very removed when he wore it, "We need to tend to the…the whip injuries and…and the carvings," Bruce did just that, a wicked angry gleam in his eyes as he did so. Dick still stood, frozen in angered shock before turning and leaving the room. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he just let himself move…he _needed_ to move. Dick needed to do _something_. He grabbed his dual batons and a spare mask before heading over to his motorcycle,

"Nightwing. Where do you think you're going?" Bruce asked from across the cave, near the medbay. Dick ignored him, "Nightwing… _Nightwing_ —," Bruce was striding across the cave towards him, but Dick still ignored him. He moved robotically until Bruce grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away from the bike,

"— _Dick!"_ he stated, concern and anger in his eyes, "what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm going after him, Bruce. Did you see what _he_ did? Did you see what he fucking _drew_ on Darren's back!"

"Yes I saw," Bruce replied calmly, "But—,"

"—but _nothing!"_ Dick snapped, "He'll live with those scars for the rest of his life!"

"And you dying will not make things any easier,"

"Who says I'm going to die? I've faced Cobb before,"

"And I've seen your injuries from both of the times you have," Bruce said, "The Court is in chaos right now. They've lost Owl members and Talons and they are regrouping, if you go there now you will _not_ come back. You would be abandoning Darren to face this alone,"

"William deserves this," Dick growled,

"Then let Darren achieve it," Bruce stated, "He'll need to recover…and I doubt Slade would be the ideal companion for it. And he, if you die, would be the only one with a legitimate reason to gain custody from the Powers," Dick blinked at that. He'd forgotten about Slade, who he was to Darren more importantly he'd forgotten about the Powers and their own grip of control they had on Darren's life,

"Slade would make him want vengeance,"

"He'd make him want to _kill_ William…and while maybe Darren will see that as justice, it's not how we do things,"

"Darren isn't us. He…he most likely killed all those people in Harbor House. We can't just _ignore_ that,"

"I know. But we can't blame him for that either, we don't even know what happened. Even so, we need to let Darren decide what he wants and needs. And he'll need his family to be there with him through it all. I am not Darren's family, nor are Damian and Tim, but you _are_. Don't go after the Court or William. You're angry and that is not something you should go into a fight with," Dick sighed and nodded, placing his helmet back onto the handlebars of the bike,

"Fine. But when or if we do face Cobb again. I'm not holding back,"

"I don't think any of us will." Bruce stated, turning back to the medbay with a thoughtful expression, "The Court needs to be stopped, I'd like to think that Darren would help us do that,"

"Don't put that on him," Dick said, "He's been through enough. He doesn't need to be a vigilante. It's his choice,"

"Don't worry Dick. I do know that. But we can't let him go after them with murder on his mind,"

"Which is exactly why we can't let Slade take him from Gotham," Dick said crossing his arms, "I know he's Darren's father, but he's a murderer. A killer. He won't be a good influence on Darren, especially if he's got Grant and Joseph, who I thought were _dead_ , back on his side and killing,"

"I've been wondering about that myself,"

"Do you think the League of Assassins has something to do with this? Slade's worked with them before, for all we know they owe him favors. I mean how else did he get more Mirakuru to use for Darren? And how else are Grant and Joseph here?" Dick asked,

"I don't know. Maybe they weren't really dead, maybe they made a deal with Slade or maybe they were resurrected by the League of Assassins. I don't know, there's nothing to go off of,"

"Well, we need to find out…and we need to keep Darren away from them,"

"I have no say about that," Bruce stated, giving Dick a smirk, "Afterall, _you'll_ be his legal guardian if we manage to nab him from the Powers," Dick sputtered like a fish for a second, the fact of that hitting him like a truck,

"That's so weird," Dick groaned, placing a hand to his head, "Ugh, don't remind me,"

"We can worry about that later. Right now we need to let Darren recover and rest,"

"And find out what happened in there and…why he—well—why he lost it." Dick said looking back over at the medbay, "They won't stop coming after him will they?"

"Not after tonight, no." A pained cry caused them to jump followed by Tim's voice crying,

"Darren, calm down, you're okay! You're safe!" Dick and Bruce hurried over to find Tim trying to keep Darren from rolling off the cot and yank all the monitor connections and IV drip off and out of him, while Alfred looked on in concern. Darren was panicking and trying to fight off Tim, even horribly injured he still was able to move and flail, which meant the Cure was working, it was lessening the effects of the Serum, but Darren was still in danger of hurting himself even more if he kept trying to attack them,

"I won't go back! I won't serve you! I won't! I _won't,_ I won't, _I won't!"_ Darren yelled,

"He thinks he's still at Harbor House," Bruce said, frowning. Dick hurried over and ducked under the wires of the monitors that were beeping wildly at the moment to sit on the floor by Darren's head and placed his hands on his cousin's shoulders, holding him steady with slight difficulty,

"Darren, hey. _Hey_ , Darren _look_ at me," he said, Darren complied, his blue-grey eyes filled with fear and his breathing uneven. He still struggled, though less than before, "You're _not_ there. You're in the _Batcave_ with us and we are here to _help_ you, okay? _Okay?"_ Darren nodded, though the fear didn't leave his eyes,

 _"…hurts,"_ Darren moaned, squeezing his eyes shut against whatever pain he still felt,

"I know. I'm sorry, but we're trying to make you well again,"

"Not well…not ever," Darren wheezed, Dick chose to ignore that, he was in pain and delirious at the moment,

"You're _safe,"_ Dick insisted, and Darren nodded jerkily before finally slumping fully onto the cot. Either the sedative finally kicked in or he tired himself out with his panicked episode. Dick then carefully removed his hands from his shoulders and placed them firmly over Darren's ears. He didn't know how good his hearing was at the moment but he needed to tell Tim and Alfred something and didn't want Darren panicking over it,

"Up the sedative and morphine, just keep it a constant, don't give him a dosage,"

"Dick, that's really risky and unsafe," Tim said frowning,

"It doesn't matter at this point. He's badly injured and sleep will help him heal and morphine will keep him from feeling pain,"

"Morphine is pretty addictive Dick," Tim replied skeptically, Dick sighed,

"Fine…don't do it with the Morphine, but just make sure you keep it up, at least for the next few days," Tim looked to Alfred, the medical genius, who nodded. They complied and Alfred continued his work on Darren's back and eventually his front. Dick remained where he was, running a hand through Darren's hair as if to calm him even in sleep,

"Don't worry Darren. Cobb will get what he deserves." Dick whispered to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter! Please please please comment comment comment I'd love to hear any questions, comments or concerns you may have regarding this chapter or this who story!


	19. Chapter 19

Darren couldn't move. He couldn't feel his body and that worried him. He slept, he couldn't wake up nor did he want to. But occasionally he was semi-aware. He knew he was somewhere warm, somewhere with extremely comfortable pillows. He could hear someone sitting next to him and knew that it changed every time he became more aware than when he was just sleeping. Darren dreamed…and sometimes it was nightmares, but he couldn't wake up even from those. Maybe it was symbolic, maybe it was showing Darren that he'd never be able to get away from the terrible things he's done, not in his sleep and not ever. In the moment of his revenge rampage, all he wanted was to end the Court, the Talons and Owls alike, because of what they'd done to him and his family and Asher…but it hadn't felt right…even if they all deserved it, it just didn't feel satisfying. And doing it at all because he had no hope to save his own life, doing it all as a last course of action, hadn't felt right. Darren wanted to live, despite everything he's done he didn't want to die. Not again, not ever. It was weird how nearly dying again brought him to this realization, but it got him there nonetheless.

He tried to wake up, he wanted to wake up, but something wouldn't let him and it frustrated him. Occasionally he could hear himself groan and cry out in fear from his dreams. And once on that kind of night, someone ran a hand through his hair and said,

"I'm sorry Dare, you need to sleep to heal. It's just a dream, it's not real. You're safe." Darren was pretty sure that was Dick. He didn't know how he felt about the nickname. It was a new one…it would probably be more gratifying if he were actually fully aware and he heard someone call him that. And he was wrong...what Darren dreamt was real, staring him in the face. Reminding him of that darkness he felt within himself.

Even so, Darren still slept on unable to fully come to and he never knew how long that was. It could've been days, weeks…months. The thought was terrifying…like _cold storage._ The thought of that sent his heart rate accelerating. Darren heard someone shift next to him as the monitors picked up the increased change. He forced himself to think of other things…forced himself to go back to that blissful blackness of absolute sleep and the person relaxed into their seat again.

Darren felt the pain. It was like a swarm of angry spiders biting and clawing at his hands, arms and back. Everything itched and it felt like something was tugging on his chest every time he breathed. Sometimes the pain was so great and he cried out in his forced sleep. The person sitting next to him, whoever it was at the time, would get up and leave bringing another with them when they returned, and eventually, the pain went away…but not for long. Darren tried not to cry out, he didn't want to seem weak…like a failure… _pathetic_ , but sometimes he couldn't help it.

Eventually, the person who took the pain away came and shined a light in Darren's eyes. He'd actually been asleep up until that moment and it surprised him,

"His eyes are gold," the man seemed to confirm with someone else, he sounded older…and British…and familiar,

"He's healing on his own then?" a voice said, it was Tim. That voice Darren did remember. He realized at that moment that if Dick was Nightwing, other members of the family had to also be Gotham's vigilantes,

"It seems so," was the reply,

"Then we can get him off the sedative and the morphine," Tim replied, he sounded relieved,

"Indeed," the older man replied. Darren wasn't sure he wanted that to happen…especially if it meant feeling pain again. Even so, they did just that. Darren was finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes closed, it was harder to actually submerge himself into unconsciousness and the pain…the pain came back greater than before. He tried to squirm, as if doing so would get him away from what he felt, but he couldn't move. Not adequately enough. He moaned and cried out and writhed in the bed, tangling the sheets.

One particularly bad night, as Darren lay with his teeth clenched and his chest heaving against the pain, trying not to cry out. Someone ran a hand through his hair again as if to comfort him,

"I know it hurts, but soon you'll feel better. I promise. We need to get you off the sedative and the morphine, you have enough drugs in you permanently as it is," it was Dick again. Darren knew that now and he let out a cough of a laugh even though it hurt. With effort he calmed down and eventually fell asleep…this time on his own…without much help from the sedative.

Finally, he actually did manage to open his eyes, just for a split second and it caused Dick to start with surprise,

"Darren?" he asked, just as the door behind him opened and an elderly man walked in with a bundle of fresh bandages and a pair of suture scissors. Darren at seeing those things got a bit nervous and turned his head away towards the other side of the room, which had large wide and uncovered windows with sunshine streaming in. The light hurt his eyes, it made them feel like they were burning and everything in front of him turned a blinding bright white. Darren cried out loudly in surprise and rolled over—despite how badly it irritated his back's wounds—towards Dick,

"Alfie, close the curtains," Dick called to Alfred, the butler of the household, if Darren remembered correctly from when they'd been introduced seemingly so long ago, "His enhanced eyesight's returned," Dick leaned over and covered the side of Darren's face from the light coming from the windows into the room. Alfred quickly closed the curtains, leaving the room darker than before and Dick sat back in his chair,

"I need to redress your wounds young sir and remove your stitches. Your skin is starting to knit itself back together on its own…the stitches are getting in the way," Darren nodded jerkily…he was starting to feel exhausted and tired again and moved to roll onto his stomach. He must not have completely shaken the strong sedative yet,

"Whoa, Darren, not your back…your front. Though we do need to replace the bandages on your back," there was a slight bite to Dick's words as he helped Darren turn onto his back again. Was Dick _angry_ at him? Or at how Darren got those wounds…and that anger towards the wounds meant Dick's _seen_ them. Darren let out a shaky breath at that realization,

"You alright Dare?" Dick asked, his hand squeezed his shoulder, and Darren let out a muffled cry of pain. He hadn't expected it to hurt as much as it did, neither did Dick because he apologized profusely,

"I-it's o-okayy," Darren slurred,

"I believe he's still feeling the effects of the sedative," Alfred said, still working on removing the stitching along his ribs and on his hands, "It's all right to go back to sleep young sir. You're still healing and sleeping isn't a bad thing to do," Darren took his advice and fell fast asleep again. He didn't feel it when he finally removed the stitching or when Dick lifted him up so Alfred could re-bandage his back. It was a blissful, yet restless sleep.

* * *

Darren finally cracked his eyes open to see the room very dark, a single lamp on the nightstand on. Tim was sitting in the chair by the bed reading a book, his feet up on the edge of the bed,

"If the light's bothering you I could turn the lamp off," he said without looking up,

"No, it's fine," Darren croaked, he sounded terrible. He might've had another nightmare and just didn't remember it. That was a slight relief…though he wondered if Tim had been there while he yelled and cried out from it,

"Want some water? Your throat seems a little sore,"

"Yes," Darren said, trying to sit up. His back rippled with pain forcing him to flop back down. His head spun. He let out a small groan,

"Here, let me help," Tim said holding out a hand. Darren grasped the offered hand and Tim pulled him up slowly so he was upright on all the pillows fluffed out behind him, "Here's the water," Darren reached for the glass but stopped, shocked to see the thin pale scar on the back of his hand. Darren of course had accumulated a numerous amount of scars over the course of his life, but never ones from torture…never ones inflicted with such retribution. He turned it over to look at the palm, another one was visible as well,

"No permanent damage right?" Darren asked finally, swallowing thickly,

"As far as Alfred can tell. Bruce is going to have Dr. Leslie come over to look at you once you have shaken off the drugs we'd given you completely," Tim replied as Darren finally took the glass he held. Darren took a sip, reveling in the feeling of cool soothing water slipping down his throat, before chugging the whole thing,

"Who's Dr. Leslie?" he asked, slightly suspicious and wary of an unfamiliar name,

"The best doctor we know. Alfred is a close second but even he can't do a lot the things Leslie does for us…don't tell him I said that though," Darren cracked a smile before frowning and looking down at his chest. It was still bare, though it was wrapped up with bandages for his back. Darren's shoulders and arms were wrapped as well. The wounds along his ribs and the one on his shoulder were healed, pale scars of each wound would remain though. Experimentally, Darren bent his arms and twisted from side to side, wincing slightly at the pain he still felt,

"I thought the pain would be gone by now," Darren grumbled,

"Yeah…the—the wounds on your back are taking a bit longer to heal than we'd like," Tim said cautiously, eyeing the stark white bandages with a grim frown,

"Where's Dick?" Darren finally asked that question had been on the back of his mind since he'd woken up fully a few moments ago,

"Bruce forced him to go get some food and to sleep. He'll be pissed he wasn't there when you woke up fully. Especially since he didn't get to give you your birthday present," Tim said, picking up an envelope off the nightstand and handing it to him, "Happy fifteenth. This one is from me," Darren stared at the envelope surprised,

"It's my birthday?" he asked, taking it from Tim, staring down at the gift almost incredulously. Darren didn't remember the last time he'd gotten presents on his birthday,

"Well…two days ago yeah,"

"So I've been asleep for four days?" Darren questioned, counting back based on that piece of information. He needed to know how much time had really passed...nothing seemed or felt real while asleep and it was unnerving,

"Really almost five. You waking up yesterday when Alfred checked to see if your eyes had changed colors doesn't really count," Darren opened the envelope to find a funny card wishing him a happy birthday and a card for a place called Starbucks,

"What's Star…bucks?" Darren asked, squinting at the card—confused—in the dim light. Tim let out a chuckle,

"I figured you wouldn't actually know what it was,"

"I heard Lydia and Derek mention it at the Powers's mansion, but I've never actually been," Darren confessed. Tim took the card and put it in his pocket shaking his head,

"Trust me it's better that you don't know what it is. And that is why I got you an even better gift! Candy!" Tim pulled out a large back from under his chair and dumped a mountain load of candies into Darren's lap. He let out a surprised laugh and grabbed a handful of the sweets a grin spreading over his features,

"Awesome!" he cried, this was more candy than he had ever had in his stash. Darren examined some of the pieces, already excited to eat all of it, "I'm not sharing," he told Tim, who rolled his eyes,

"It's yours, Darren. I don't want it,"

"Liar," Darren replied, frowning for a moment and bringing a mini candy bar closer to inspect, "What's with all the ghosts and...are, are those pumpkins on the wrappers? Why do they have faces on them?" Tim raised an eyebrow at him, his blue eyes narrowing slightly,

"For Halloween," he replied,

"What's Halloween?" Darren asked looking at Tim questioningly. Tim's jaw seemed to clench and an emotion Darren couldn't quite place flashed across his face for a brief second before it was gone,

"It's a holiday. On the thirty-first of October. Everyone dresses up in costumes and goes door to door for candy,"

"My birthday's a holiday?" Darren asked surprised, "A candy holiday?" what a _perfect_ holiday for him with is huge sweet-tooth. Darren vaguely remembered reading it in one of the books from his room in the Nest. He hadn't stocked the shelves so he didn't know exactly what books were there and was thumbing through them one night—Darren loved reading, well actually being _read_ _to_ , he was dyslexic therefore he wasn't the best at it—and he saw the mention of Halloween but hadn't really known what it was. William had called for him before Darren could figure it out and he'd forgotten about it. If only he knew of it beforehand, he would have demanded more candy from Calvin on his birthday in the past if he had,

"Well more like you were born coincidentally on the day of that specific holiday. But yeah. Halloween is the same day as your birthday," Tim said,

"Sweet," Darren replied, unwrapping a few of the candies he had and shoving them into his mouth,

"Careful with that. You've been given practically nothing but liquids for the past five days. You'll be sick if you eat too many solids," Darren glared at Tim before shaking his head and shoving a few more in his mouth. Tim sighed but didn't stop him, "Here's Dick's present. I don't know why he immediately thought 'monkey' when thinking of you but he did," Tim pulled out a stuffed monkey from a paper bag on the ground by his feet. Darren smiled as he picked it up and looked at it. His mind wandered back to before when he was younger and he frowned,

"What's wrong, you don't like it?" Tim asked he didn't sound offended on his brother's behalf just curious,

"No. It's not that at all. I _do_ like it. It…it's just I had a stuffed animal monkey when I was younger," Darren didn't elaborate,

"Do you remember much of your childhood…before the Court took you?" Darren sighed and shook his head,

"No. Not really. I'm sure Crowne Manor still has pictures on the walls and in photo books…but I personally don't remember. I don't even remember what happened to my monkey. I bet William took it," his voice faltered at saying his great-grandfather's name and he almost slipped back in his mind to the time before he entered the Labyrinth, but Tim pulled him from it just in time,

"Don't think about it, Darren. You're not there anymore," Tim stated firmly. Darren nodded gratefully and placed the monkey next to him on the bed. He instead turned his attention to something else: _candy_. Darren ate a third of the mound of his birthday candy, as well as a waffle Alfred brought him—another extremely delicious thing he's never had before, Darren said as much to the surprise of both Tim and Alfred—before he was crouched over the toilet in the bathroom four hours later. Tim was leaning against the doorframe with a smirk on his face,

"I told you so," he said cheerfully,

"Shut up," Darren groaned, resting his head on the toilet seat. His stomach felt like a twist of knots, it was extremely uncomfortable, "This normally doesn't happen to Talons," Darren muttered before he hurled in the toilet again—his arms wrapped around the bowl of it—before Tim could reply,

"Well I'm pretty sure the Serum does some funky stuff to your digestive system and on top of that we have no idea what side affects the Cure brings,"

"Fuck off," Darren growled,

"Um, no. I have to actually help you back to bed before Dick comes up for his red watch,"

"Red watch?" Darren questioned, standing unsteadily and flushing the toilet. His back prickled weirdly…he was scared to try and look at it. Looking in the bathroom mirror was frightening enough. All the bandages, his disheveled hair, and pale pale skin. Darren looked like death…and it was an unpleasant reminder he'd already experienced it. His eyes were golden, like molten gold to be exact, and it didn't seem like they'd be changing back anytime soon. It was an uncanny and unwelcome sight. It just proved how different Darren had become in just a few short days,

"Whenever someone is injured…after they've been treated…we set up red watch rotations. Basically we make sure the person is okay and if any of the monitors flash red or beep we get Alfred or Leslie as quickly as possible. We basically make sure no one dies," Tim said, nodding at Darren to head back to the bed,

"But I'm upright and walking. I don't need a red watcher," Darren replied, annoyed as to how closely Tim walked behind him as if expecting him to fall,

"Everyone thinks that, but you're still considered in recovery until Alfred or Dr. Leslie says otherwise. I know how annoying that is trust me," Darren rolled his eyes as he neared the big bed. The curtains were still drawn even though it was dark out and in the dim light—yet bright enough for him to see the entire room clearly—he surveyed the room. Four-poster beds, grey duvet cover, green curtains, a dresser, a few random paintings put about the wall, the chair Tim was sitting in and another chair on the other side, near a small but very filled bookshelf. Darren paused, a thought occurring to him,

"Where's the sword?" he asked, surprised by the anxiety he suddenly felt. It was _Ash's_ sword, it was his best friend's sword…and Darren needed to know where it was. He needed to keep it from the Court so they don't tarnish his friend anymore than they already had, _"Where is it?"_ he turned to face Tim, who stepped back slightly concern in his eyes, "Please tell me it's here somewhere. Tell me it's not back _there_ ," Darren was shaking and it suddenly felt as if the room was spinning,

"Darren…don't get worked up—," Darren took a step and nearly fell over, prompting Tim to grab him and despite the burst of pain he felt racing up and down the arm he grabbed Darren let Tim hold him up,

"Where is it?" he mumbled again, "Please tell me they don't have it," Tim looked very worried as he helped Darren back into bed and took his seat…though he didn't pick up his book again,

"It's in the Batcave. They _don't_ have it, Darren, I promise,"

"Why's it down there?" Darren asked, forcing himself to calm down. He shouldn't have gotten so worked up about it but he didn't want anything of his friend to be in the Court's clutches. They had already taken his friend's life, they wouldn't get a claim to his best weapon,

"No weapons allowed in the house. Alfred's rule," Tim replied. Darren didn't say anything just sighed heavily in an attempt to stop his head from continuous spinning,

"I can see why I'm still in recovery," Darren stated a moment later, "I felt dizzy before…still do a little,"

"You were worked up and it could be from lack of solid food. We'll sort that out quickly though. Alfred won't let you starve," Darren was silent for a moment, letting the silence wash over and calm him. He was nearly dozing off when Tim spoke again,

"Dick will be on red watch next. He'll ask you questions…don't get mad or upset by them, it's Bruce who's making him ask," Darren looked over, an eyebrow raised,

"Why?"

"He…he wants to know what happened. Before we arrived and got you out," Darren froze…he didn't even blink as all that happened flashed through his mind. Maybe the fear on his face was apparent because Tim shifted his position in the chair and said,

"Don't think about it. I find that helps the most. It's…it's a hard thing to talk about, but it needs to be done. Just remind yourself you aren't there…you're here and you're safe," Darren didn't even need to ask. He knew Tim understood. He knew with the other villains in this city, they weren't above using torture on innocent victims or proteges of the Bat. That understanding comforted Darren at least a little bit, and brought him out from his own memories. That night he didn't sleep easily…but he still did, somewhat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter. I feel like this chapter was a little blah, but that might be because I'm used to my later stories for this series and they are much improved from when I first started this series. If anything my understanding of medical situations and recovery gets better as well as my comprehension and descriptions of stress-related panic/anxiety attacks. As it happens it is still too soon for everything to fully hit Darren...he's still processing it all so his reaction would typically be a little detached with a few instances where things become intense for him upon remembering what happened and what he escaped from. Additionally, you as readers and the Bats still don't actually know a lot about Darren, his past or present, I guess you'll discover that along with the vigilantes. :)
> 
> If you have any questions, comments and/or concerns please please please comment comment comment.


	20. Chapter 20

The next time Darren awoke Dick was sitting in the chair next to him playing on his phone. Darren sat up, surprisingly easily, on his own a wide smile on his face,

"Dick!" he cried only to wince at the booming sound of his voice. Everything was really loud. He could hear the clacking claws of a dog on the hardwood floor downstairs. The sound of an alarm clock going off and of car horns on the roads nearby. The sound of the birds outside was a bombardment of sound that careened into Darren's eardrums,

"Hey cuz! I'm glad you're finally awake!" Dick boomed, "Do you like my present?" He frowned as Darren clamped his hands over his ears, a grimace on his face. It didn't help, the noises were blaring all around him,

"Loud!" he managed to gasp out before curling up in a ball on the bed and mushing the pillows over his head. Dick frowned in concern before standing and walking—sounding more like stomping to Darren—out the door and downstairs. Darren stayed as he was, groaning at the pain every sound he could hear caused. He writhed on the bed, his hands clamped over his ears even under all the pillows,

"Darren's enhanced hearing came in," Dick was saying to someone, "Do we have anything to lessen the noise level. It's causing him pain,"

"Something like a white noise machine?" Alfred suggested,

"You'd need a white noise machine the size of the washing machine for that to work," Tim stated, tapping a pencil on the counter. The clacking on pencil on the table only adding to the harassment of noise. Darren clenched his teeth together harder, "Perhaps these will work," Tim stated,

"Headphones?" Dick asked skeptically,

"I dunno, maybe they'll work, maybe they won't. But they'll give him something to focus on. Play something soft like…I dunno, classical music?" Dick only sighed and started to stomp back up the stairs and reentered the room,

"Hey. Dare," he spoke softer than before, but him being quiet only amplified the rest of the noise around him, causing Darren to groan in annoyance and pain, "C'mon out buddy. I have something that may help," Darren sighed but sat up, dislodging the pillows around him but kept his hands over his ears. The pair of headphones Dick held were large. They seemed heavy duty for sure, there was a brand name etched on them. Darren squinted at them trying to read it 'Bose' it seemed to say, but he could be wrong. Though…maybe they _would_ help,

"You need to remove your hands," Dick stated. Darren shook his head, "It's only for a moment. Besides, that can't really be helping," with an eye-roll Darren complied, wincing at all the sound as Dick placed the bulky headphones over his ears. Immediately everything he had been hearing was muted. He could still hear everything…just not as loud. Dick laughed as he pulled out his phone to put the headphones into,

"What?" Darren asked, eyeing the device he held,

"The face you made was hilarious. You were so surprised it worked," again, Darren rolled his eyes, only for his face to fall blank with surprise as pretty music filled his ears,

"What is this?"

"Classical music," Dick replied,

"No…I mean who is doing this?"

"Yo-Yo Ma. A very famous cellist,"

"Sweet," Darren said, smiling contently, "It's much better than before,"

"Yeah, but you can't wear headphones forever. We're going to have to find a way to get you in control of your senses," Dick nodded over to the closed curtains, "Including your eyesight," Darren frowned,

"You make that sound easy,"

"I know nothing about how easy this is. In fact, it all seems very difficult," Darren nodded mutely, then a thought struck him,

"My dad has similar abilities…maybe he can—," he began hopefully, only to stop short at Dick's expression at the mention of Slade,

"—no,"

"But—,"

"—no," Dick insisted,

_"Why?"_

"He's not a good—,"

"—Yeah I know. He's not a good person. That's all anyone ever tells me, but maybe everyone should just let me come up with my own ideas of who is good and who is not for once," Darren insisted with a frown, curling his hands into tight fists in slight frustration,

"It's more complicated than that right now," Dick stated,

"How so?" Darren demanded, trying to keep the heated glare from his face. Darren didn't want to anger or disappoint his cousin not after all Dick—and his family—have done for him,

"Well, …we technically kidnapped you from your legal guardians. Until we actually find the will and have a legitimate reason to challenge the integrity of the one everyone sees as the real will, the Powers could essentially take you back," Darren had to struggle not to scream out _'no',_ he felt a wash of worry at a level he never felt before. His hands even started shaking and he found it difficult to breathe properly,

"Darren?" Dick sounded very far away even if he was so close, "Darren, breathe. I'm just saying you have to stay here until we find the will. They won't do that, as far as they and the public know you're still at 'boarding school.' And it will stay that way until Bruce and I make the custody claim public," Dick moved to sit on the bed next to Darren and put a hand on his shoulder. Darren was too out of it to fully realize that his back wounds didn't hurt at the touch, though he was aware of it enough to cautiously pull out from Dick's reach,

"B-but that ignorance won't...last...not, not f-forever," Darren stuttered, "They'll…they'll want me _back,"_

"But they won't get you back. We'll find it. Just breathe Darren. Breathe. But you're head between your legs, try and control your breathing," Darren, though perplexed and uncertain, did as he was told and Dick talked to him softly. Easily telling him stories of the circus he grew up in and of his early days as Robin. His first patrol, his first encounter with the police Commissioner. How odd it was to go from living in a small trailer to living in a manor with only three people and slowly, ever so slowly, Darren's breathing returned to normal and he relaxed back into the pillows. The headphones were still on playing cello music softly in his ears and keeping the other sounds at bay. Dick handed him his monkey that had fallen on the floor, which he gladly placed on his chest and played with the monkey's little fuzzy piece at the end of its red hat. It helped him calm down significantly,

"You won't find the will," Darren stated firmly. His voice full of despair, " _William_ has it," Dick raised an eyebrow at this, he still sat cross-legged on the bed next to where Darren lay,

"Where?" he asked,

"In his room,"

"Where in his room? Specifically?"

"A chest. He took it from Crowne Manor ten years ago…he shoved a bunch of papers and things in it and then took it and me to Harbor House," Darren replied. It was easier to talk about that then what happened only a few days ago. Tim did warn him Dick would ask questions for Bruce…though he doubted these were what the bossman had in mind,

"Is it still in Harbor House?"

"No. It's in the new compound for training Talons. Ever since you guys found out we used Harbor House everything but—but the—the Labyrinth got moved," Darren could barely say it without stuttering now it seemed. The thought annoyed and unnerved him. Would Darren live forever in fear of what had recently happened? Is it right to fear a thing…a _place_ …so thoroughly? Darren didn't know, and he didn't voice his concerns. He instead closed his eyes and listened to the music and let it drown out everything else. Dick was silent too but then he sighed and spoke again,

"Darren. I—I do have to ask about what happened," Darren squeezed the sock monkey tightly in his hand, his knuckles turning white, "I don't mean to upset you…I just need to understand what happened. Bruce…he seems to think you'd respond better to me asking rather than him asking. You don't know him…and hell you barely know me…but—,"

"—But we're related so that has to mean something huh?"

"Perhaps," Dick said, "We don't know what happened…and we do need to know if only so that we can help you overcome it,"

"And what exactly is it that I need to overcome?" Darren asked, sitting up, his eyes narrowing. Dick looked at him, a sad expression on his face,

"That," he stated, nodding at Darren's shaking hands and his fingers kneading at the material and fabric holding the monkey's shape over and over in his hands. If Darren wasn't careful he'd end up destroying his gift a day after receiving it, "Talk to me…it will unburden you,"

"You changed topics," Darren stated, staring ahead, not at Dick,

"What do you—?"

"—you changed the conversation from my father," Darren said, doing exactly that, trying to avoid thinking about Owls and Talons, whips and daggers, Labyrinths and the pain experienced at Harbor House,

"I did. Because this needs to get done before we let you get anywhere near him,"

"Why?"

"Because Slade will use it against you," Dick said it with such certainty, such finality. Darren's stomach twisted painfully, uncertain of even his cousin's intention if given the truth,

"How do I know _you_ won't use it against me?" Darren shot back, ignoring the hurt expression Dick gave him,

"Because we have no need to. We only want to make whatever it is that has you screaming at night—yelling out in your sleep, even _crying_ in your sleep— _stop,"_ Darren winced at that…he didn't think he was that loud…but then again, they sat through all of that tossing and turning and the nightmares when he'd been on the sedatives. Darren had no real memory of what happened then, only vague moments of awareness even if he was still technically asleep and only of what he'd dreamt—but they were right there to witness it. With a sigh Darren shifted, turning himself to face Dick. He bit the inside of his cheek, unsure of where to begin,

"After…after I woke up. I was, confused. I didn't know where I was and who I was with, I quickly figured it out though...I was a Talon now, I had died. That was when William dragged me out of that room. The Waking Room they call it," Darren started bitterly, "He told me you were dead. Same with my father and brothers as he chained my hands over my head. And then he started hurting me. Saying that you were meant to be the Talon and I the Owl. When you were taken in by Bruce, they decided I would be both. I would join the two and be a fox in a henhouse. I'd be the assassin in plain sight. I'd be a recruiter for the Owls as well. I would have the money, influence, and ability…at least I would when I was older. But…but I ran away. I refused to obey…and the only way for me to get out of his punishment was to say I would _obey,"_ Dick looked disgusted and angry. Darren didn't blame him…but he couldn't take the look on Dick's face so he focused on the monkey in his hands, his fingers still worrying with the material, "I refused to do that for a while. For a while I was strong…but then he started carving into my back…he said many things…things that struck hard and I gave in. I said I'd obey…but he-he didn't believe me so he whipped me,"

"Darren—I…I'm—," Dick seemed lost for words, "Continue…just, just get it all out,"

"After that, he put me in that suit…and pushed me into the Labyrinth. He expected me to win even if I was horribly injured. I didn't even know if that was what I planned to do once inside the maze…I kind of just wandered I guess. It was hard to focus...there was too much pain and weakness. But…but the other person in the maze. My opponent, he was my best friend and I couldn't fight him," Dick squinted in confusion and Darren hurriedly and shakily explained, "There are groups of young Talons-to-be. The people in those groups are called year-mates when referred to by each other. A-Ash was my year-mate and my only friend,"

"And…they put you in that maze together?"

"No. They put us in that labyrinth to kill each other," Darren said flatly, "I threw away my weapons. I wasn't going to fight him…but Ash…Asher, he saw things differently than I did. He was a street rat his whole life. Never knew who his mother or father were, yet the Court took him in and while it wasn't an easy life…it was the only life he knew. It was the only family he had…the only purpose,"

"So you fought?"

"He fought…I tried to talk him down…but things—things went wrong," Darren explained tiredly, "We both had clawed gloves, it was the only thing keeping me alive in there and the only weapon I had left. I needed to at least keep him from killing me, I thought I could get through to him. Ash was set on becoming a Talon and _staying_ a Talon…he'd do whatever commanded to achieve that even if he really didn't want to. But…he fell and on instinct, I dictated how we would fall to save myself from jarring my wounds or injuring myself more and—," Darren had to stop. He needed a moment to collect himself. He could still see this moment played out before him on a loop. The surprised expression on Asher's face, the realization that it was his fault…the dread he felt in that moment,

"And—?" Dick prompted softly,

"I landed on him…my clawed handout and slashed him right in the chest with a Serum dipped weapon," Darren hissed out. His shoulders quaking and sudden tears dripping down his face, "I _killed_ him,"

"Darren—," Dick murmured,

"I killed him. It's all my fault…he's _dead_ …I killed my best friend," Darren was sobbing now and didn't understand why only now did he feel such guilt over his friend's death. Darren had been raised to kill, he'd been raised to detach himself from any emotions detrimental to the work of an assasssin...and yet even that upbringing didn't stick. He'd felt that pain and guilt briefly in the maze…before those fleeting emotions turned to anger and vengeance. Maybe Darren tried to ignore the feeling after he woke up from his forced sleep. Maybe it was there deep down in the back of his mind but he tried to deny the feeling. Now Darren was being forced to face it all again and he felt it. He really felt the guilt and hatred towards himself for doing what he did.

Dick pulled him into a hug and after a moment of surprised struggle at being yanked against someone's chest, Darren slumped into the hug. Surprised at how good it felt to be held, to be cared for even if he'd tarnished himself so thoroughly in the eyes of Gotham's vigilantes. Darren cried. He mourned. He'll never make peace with what he did…but now was not the time to waste away on the past. Darren pulled back and stiffly wiped his tears away. Dick seemed slightly confused by the sudden change in emotion, but didn't mention it,

"Darren. It wasn't your fault. You were put in an impossible position. Asher's death was not your fault," Dick said,

"That doesn't change what, how and why it happened though," Darren muttered,

"No…it doesn't," Dick agreed, "But…afterwards—?" Darren sighed,

"I got angry. It was better than being upset and listening to Cobb demeaning my grief over my best friend. I got angry and I used my friend's sword to kill as many Owls and Talons as I could because they deserved it for what they did to my friend. For what they put us through. Asher thought himself as being freed as he died. He _thanked_ me for killing him, even though he'd gotten what he wanted, it wasn't enough for him. Asher felt just as guilty for trying to kill me! He _fucking_ thanked me! No one should just welcome death like that… _no one_. So I made everyone else in that stupid house all fear it and maybe it was wrong. Maybe that's not how justice should have been handed to them…but it felt _good_. It felt good because they _deserved_ it," Darren growled, his eyes narrowing at Dick's concerned expression,

"Darren—,"

"—but…afterwards…after you found me and got me out. I—I realized that I had done something terrible. I realized that I'd become exactly what they wanted me to be. I didn't like that…I _don't_ want to be like that. I want to be something good but I'm scared…I'm scared I don't know how to be good...how to push past what I've been taught. I know nothing about the real world other than who really runs it and how to kill and how to remain invisible. It's all I lived Dick…but I don't want to be like that again. I close my eyes and all I see is their faces as I strike them down and I—I know I can't change that, but I-I think I want to do better," he deliberately left out the fact that he thought he was going to die, the fact that he believed there was no hope for him. That was something he'd probably never forgive himself for along with him killing his friend, but it was also something he'd learn from. His life was only over when his heart is ripped out of his chest or when his head is cut off or he is cut down by a serum blade…not any second sooner,

"And you will do better. I can't say it will be easy or get easier…but I will say it is _possible,"_ Dick stated, placing a hand on his shoulder, "We'll help you. We will try and keep you from being something you hate. By admitting that you want to change, you're showing to me that you want to make amends…that you already know right from wrong…even if it's consciously and not subconsciously. I'm proud of you Darren. I'm proud that even if you can't change what happened in the past you realize you can make mistakes and learn from them," Darren nodded, surprised by Dick's words. No one has ever said they were proud of him before,

"T-thank you, Dick," Darren stammered, "For…for understanding,"

"That's why I asked Dare. We aren't going to hold something against you like this…people are misguided. People make mistakes. I know I've made a lot in the past,"

"Yeah, but I doubt those so-called mistakes involved killing someone," Darrenremarked dryly. Dick winced slightly and shrugged,

"Whether or not they involved someone's death doesn't change the fact that they're mistakes to learn from," Dick stated, "Now I've brought up enough bad memories for you…try and get some rest or here, play on my phone for a bit. Alfred's going to bring up some dinner for you later,"

"And when can I eat downstairs?" Darren called to him as he left the room,

"Once you can make it down them without falling because of dizziness," Darren huffed and crossed his arms in annoyance. Though he was secretly grateful for the solitude that quirk in his recovery provided. Darren still felt too much like an imposter to fully face the rest of the Bats.

Darren stayed where he was messing around with Dick's phone. He'd have plenty of time before he actually needed to go to sleep so he won't have to dream about what he'd just discussed with Dick at all…all he needed to do was distract himself. Keep the memories at bay.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this chapter is late, I completely forgot today was Saturday. In fact, I am having a hard time keeping the days of the week straight as it is. This chapter needed a fair bit of tweaking...rereading your written work is very cringey but I guess worth it to improve an already completed work. I also feel that not many people are reading this and it's a little disheartening. I hope you all continue to enjoy this story as it grows and develops. 
> 
> I think peoples' uncertainty comes from the fact that this story centers on an OC. I typically use OCs in my story because for me and how I write my stories, the OC creates a center point for all canon characters to interact with and therefore keep canon characters in character. The canon characters seen here are just as important to the plot and to Darren's story as Darren is as one of the main protagonists. Do not worry, there will be more perspectives from canon characters, the main reason there aren't many right now is because I'm still establishing a starting point for this series and that does center on Darren. 
> 
> Please keep reading! As always if you guys have any questions comments and or concerns PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT!


	21. Chapter 21

Dick looked through the crack in the door he left on the way out from the room Darren was staying in. Darren was laying back on the pillows, still above the covers, his phone in his hands. His facial expression was one of perplexity, either he was trying to get the hang of a new game or he wasn't as used to up-to-date technology as he let on. One thing that became clear over the past few days was that despite Darren being allowed to be in Powers Mansion and to go to galas, he never really experienced the real world. He has probably never gone ice skating, or fishing, or seen a movie or a parade or gone to the circus. He didn't know what Halloween was, or any other holiday probably…to be honest Dick had been too scared to ask. Darren had been robbed of a true childhood and there was no way he'd get one back. Not with the colossal mess they were potentially in legally. If Slade ever came by here intent on taking Darren with him there wasn't much they could do to stop him…additionally, without Amanda's will they can't prove the Powers weren't really the intended guardians of Amanda Crowne's son. Slade had more of a claim than Dick did…but he was a known criminal and even if he came with an alias he wouldn't get through the social workers that would be all over Darren's predicament, but Darren's brothers could—or at least Grant could, he was old enough to claim custody, despite once being declared legally dead. Slade probably hadn't thought of that yet, they still had time, but they had to work fast and the justice system, as well as the social work system, did _not_ move fast. Dick dreaded the moment when Darren would have to deal with the social workers. Darren wasn't ready for all of that and yet they were in a time crunch to get it all done.

On top of that, Darren didn't even seem concerned with what he'd just told him. Of course he cried and of course he had a difficult time telling Dick what had happened…but as soon as Dick left it was like nothing had happened. It may be a way of coping…maybe he was trying to ignore whatever he was feeling…but the lack of distress—as noticeable or unnoticeable as it was—concerned Dick. He wanted the best for Darren. He deserved it after what he's been through. And Dick had a lot of making up to do. He didn't know about Darren for fifteen years! _Fifteen_. It was all the Court's fault. They were all to blame for this and they were going to take them down, not just for Darren or for Dick himself, but for all of Gotham and all they suffered under the secret rule and reach the Court of Owls had over the city. With a sigh, Dick turned and headed downstairs, to the Batcave.

Bruce, Tim, Stephanie, and Barbara were standing around the computer desktop they had, Damian stood by Titus with a hand on his collar to keep him from wandering off into the depths of the cave,

"I still don't think it's a good idea to let him come down here Dami," Dick stated as he moved to stand by Barbara and Tim. They were hunched over looking at the news reports of several untimely deaths of certain rich elites over the past week and a half, "he's an excitable dog and will run off to dangerous parts of this cavern if you're not careful,"

"Tt, I can control my own dog Grayson," came the biting sneer, and exaggerated eye-roll, an expected response,

"Don't bother Dick, I've already tried," Bruce stated, not looking up from the device,

"The Arberlys lost the husband of Valerie and the nephew of the husband,"

"A name of said husband would be nice Timothy," Stephanie replied, rolling her eyes,

"Edward," Tim replied,

"Nephew's name?"

"Terrance,"

"So this is how we wheedle out who are Owls of the Court? By the deaths at Harbor House?" Dick asked, frowning at the growing list of names,

"It's not pleasant," Tim said, "But it's effective. They were well-known people and will be mentioned in the papers. We can find more of them through the dead's friend grapevine,"

"These are rich snobs Tim, that's like trying to find a needle in a haystack," Barbara stated, "The actuality of these people having true friends is very low,"

"But it is a lead," Bruce stated, "What did Darren tell you?" Dick let out a sigh,

"Everything," Barbara looked up from an article she was reading surprised,

"Just like that? So soon after it happened?"

"I know…I was surprised too. But he did. It wasn't easy for him…but I guess he saw the necessity of it," Dick replied shrugging,

"That's such bullshit," Damian snapped, "Drake told him you'd ask,"

"Is that true Tim?" Bruce asked, narrowing his eyes, Tim glared at Damian before replying,

"Darren wouldn't have said a word if I hadn't mentioned Dick would ask him about it. Plus he'd lose all trust in us. He is practically a cornered animal right now. Not all of you sat with him through most nights, you didn't hear how terrified he was," Dick winced slightly, he'd been out almost every night helping Bruce try to track down the Court again…or at least get a lead on their new headquarters while Darren had been out cold, "Darren needed the push and it helped him at least sort of face what happened," Tim continued,

"We don't know him all that well," Stephanie added defending Tim, "Even if he's related to you Dick, he _isn't_ you. You're different people and therefore we needed to play this out carefully, and keep what little trust he has intact,"

"I understand that," Dick said, "I just wasn't prepared for all of that myself,"

"What did he tell you?" Barbara asked. Dick bit his lip…he wondered if he should water it down a bit, but decided not to. It was better they heard the whole truth. With a deep breath, he told them everything Darren had said. Bruce listened with hardly a change in expression. Stephanie, on the other hand, ended up clutching Tim's hand, her face very, very pale by the end of it—Dick could almost see her remembering when she'd been beaten near death years ago in her watering eyes, and he felt terrible for making her remember but he'd been told to tell all he heard—Tim himself only listened with a blank face as if he expected it to be that bad. Barbara stood silently, her face grim and her jaw set. A hard look in her green eyes. Damian didn't seem to be listening, but Dick could see the clenched fist by his side. He was angry…and Dick hoped that emotion mirrored on his face because he was furious himself,

"They made him kill his _best friend_ ," Stephanie growled when Dick finished, "After they nearly _beat_ him to _death!"_

"I know. It's horrible," Dick said, "Darren still feels guilty for it…he even cried…but afterward, he acted as if he never said a word,"

"It's probably how he's trying to cope," Barbara said placing a hand on his shoulder, "Or it's just how he was trained…or raised actually. Ignore the pain and the sorrow…shoulder on or cease surviving. We may not know how he lived with the Talons but living in such a harsh and hostile environment pretty much guarantees he won't react the way we'd think he would to terrible things,"

"That's right. We know nothing about his childhood or the degree at which he was abused," Bruce agreed, "The only thing we can do now is try and help him. _I am_ concerned for his mentality…at least towards what is right and what is wrong…he did say he realizes what he did at Harbor House was wrong, but his willingness to say they equally deserved it concerns me,"

"As it does for me," Dick said, "I see that he _does_ want to change that, but he just doesn't believe it's possible. I'm worried he won't put in the effort,"

"And he won't just give up using that sword if he has to," Damian piped up, jerking his head towards the sword Darren refused to leave without. It was on a pedestal in a glass case, "It was his friend's,"

"Darren _was_ extremely distressed when he realized he didn't know where the blade was," Tim added,

"It's sentimental. He wants to make right what he did to his friend, he's channeling that feeling through the sword," Damian stated, "It will probably fade in time…but just in case we'll need to teach him to be nonlethal with that weapon. Not that _I_ care what he does with it, but I know you do father…and Grayson,"

"We are not forcing him to become a vigilante!" Dick exclaimed,

"That's not what we're talking about Dick," Barbara insisted, "This is all about training Darren to control his strength and speed. Those abilities will come in soon and he'll have no control and he'll end up hurting one of us or himself. I don't think you want that burdening him as well do you?"

"No," Dick sighed, "But bringing him down here for that…it could get ideas in his head,"

"Dick is right about that," Bruce agreed, "I do not want to force this idea onto him that he has to become something like us. He's never experienced true civilian life, I'd rather give him that…or as much as we can give him of that in the time being…than grooming him to be another one of us. Unless of course, that is what he wants to achieve,"

"Fine…we'll try and help him without bringing him down here to fight," Barbara decided, "But if that doesn't help we need to get him down here to at least learn control,"

"Agreed," Dick and Bruce said as one,

"Speaking of Talon abilities coming in," Tim started, "He's healing rapidly now, which is good. His eyes aren't completely gold anymore which means he won't be actively healing all the time,"

"That's a relief," Dick said,

"Yeah…those eyes…they're a bit disconcerting," Tim agreed, "He's still getting dizzy or light-headed when walking around though, he nearly passed out one time too. Alfred can't figure out why and neither can I,"

"Well he did lose over a pint of blood," Barbara stated, "It takes a full week to get one pint back, but more? He'll need more time,"

"That is true, but it could be something else—,"

"—Something serious?" Dick interrupted whatever else Tim was going to say,

"Not as of yet, but we will keep an eye on that,"

"Dr. Leslie will be coming tomorrow," Bruce stated, "She may be able to shed some light on that issue,"

"We should let Darren know that," Stephanie said, flipping through the articles on the computer desk again, "Are the Michaelsons acquaintances of the Arberlys?"

"Maybe…put a mark next to them, we'll have to check them out," Tim said,

"Speaking of Owls," Dick started, "I think I have a lead on getting the true will of Amanda Crowne,"

"And what's that?" Tim asked,

"Well, Darren mentioned that William had a chest in his room at the compound where he was trained…well recently trained, after the Night of Owls they moved the Talons from the Harbor House and to the compound. Darren remembered that chest being filled with papers and documents from Crowne Manor the night William took him,"

"So…the will is possibly in a chest that's in a location we don't know?" Tim asked,

"Well…I never actually asked Darren where the compound was…"

"And why not Grayson?" Damian snapped, causing Titus to jerk awake from his doze,

"It didn't really seem like a good time to question him like an interrogator," Dick stated firmly,

"We can search tonight on patrol as we search for potential confirmation on Owl members," Bruce declared, "We'll ask him tomorrow for the actual location if we don't find anything,"

"That's fair," Barbara said, "We shouldn't bring up any more bad memories for him tonight,"

"Yeah. That seems like the best plan…thank you for doing all this, for Darren," Dick stated. Babs rolled her eyes and lightly punched him on the shoulder,

"Dicky, he's your family and therefore automatically _our_ family now. No matter what happened in the past he's going to get our help,"

"And even if he wasn't somehow tied to the Court of Owls we'd still help him out of whatever situation he was in," Tim added, "We aren't just doing this because it's the first lead on the Court's movement since the Night of Owls,"

"Yeah Grayson, I thought that was obvious," Damian snorted. Bruce gave Dick a nod, and that was enough for him to know that Bruce agreed with the others. What they said made Dick feel better about all of this, it gave him hope that Darren still has a place somewhere, somehow with him and his family,

"Let's head out everyone. Alfred's on the comms. We're splitting off into pairs. And keep an eye out for Talons, something tells me they'll be more active now, even with depleted brains and brawn." That said they all geared up and headed out into the Gotham night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter. I finally got to include Dick's POV which I'm sure you guys are happy about and I finally got Barbara and Stephanie into the story which I am happy about (I forgot when they officially came in with this story). I do want to say that a lot of the characters from Batman--characters like Harper, Duke, and Luke Fox--won't necessarily be within the main circle of characters mostly because I don't know a lot about them but they will be mentioned. They do exist and they have their roles within the Batfamily. Additionally, though the Court of Owls was created with the New 52 reboot...I don't actually like a lot of their plots and stories, so this series is very loosely centered around the New 52. Some things might be referenced from those comics and current comics later in this series but, like the other characters, only in passing. 
> 
> If you have any questions, comments and/or concerns PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT!


	22. Chapter 22

Darren couldn't sleep. His eyes just wouldn't close. He lay in the large bed in Wayne Manor staring at the ceiling, the cracks and chips in it very clear and crisp thanks to his new enhanced vision. The curtains were opened and moonlight spread across the wooden floor and edges of the rug spouting out from under the bed. Moonlight didn't bother his eyes as much as sunlight. Even so, Darren was getting the hang of forcing his eyes to adjust to the sudden changes in light. When exposed to light immediately from being in the dark, it was hard for his new strong eyes to adjust, once Darren figured out how to fix that he was amazed at how far he could see. From the Manor, Darren could see Gotham clearly even though it was miles away. His hearing was more difficult to manage, but Darren could now control it…somewhat…better than he had before. He still needed the headphones occasionally, but usually, he was just fine.

A sigh escaped as Darren shifted around on the bed. To Darren it felt like the bed was smothering him, consuming him. It hadn't felt that way before. It was the first time he wore no bandages for his back and wore a shirt to bed. It felt odd. Everything itched uncomfortably and he felt the sheets scratch at his scars and skin. Never had Darren felt so uncomfortable in the Manor before. It was slightly discouraging. Of course, it was the first night he had no bandages over his skin…but everything still felt weird to him. The shirt on his back felt weird and water on his back in the shower felt even odder. This new lack of comfort was really preventing him from sleeping. Or maybe Darren was just afraid he'd dream. He'd told Dick everything that had happened to him just seven…now eight…days ago. Their conversation was still fresh on his mind and no amount of mindless phone games was going to change that.

Darren huffed angrily and turned forcefully onto his side, staring unblinkingly at the alarm clock on the nightstand next to him. No more red watchers either, not for the past two nights, which was great. Being on his side made him feel slightly better, now if only Darren could sleep—rapping on the balcony window/door jolted Darren into a sitting position. Slowly he eyed the floor where the moonlight was disrupted by a hulking figure in shadow. The form was too large to be a Talon…and Darren doubted they'd be able to get that close without someone in the Manor noticing. Darren then realized all of the Bats were on patrol...only he and Alfred were in the Manor and slight panic crept up Darren's spine. He of course was a Talon now…Darren could fight off this potential Talon himself…but he had no Serum weapons and they most likely did, he'd be a goner. The memory of the Serum searing his flesh made Darren shudder and wince at the same time. Even so, Darren got up and padded over to the doorway, ready to fight.

He instead grinned in surprise and opened the door wide, ignoring the chill from outside that blew across his now cold-sensitive skin,

"Dad!" he exclaimed in a hushed tone as if Alfred had a Talon's hearing as well and would sound the alert of an intruder. Darren's grin was bright as Slade Wilson stepped into the room. His father didn't grin, he instead looked very annoyed and stated gruffly,

"I've got ten bloody minutes before the security grid system turns back on. Grant couldn't get more time, but it will be enough,"

"Where have you been?"

"Somewhere nearby," Slade stated, placing a hand on Darren's shoulder and Darren reigned in the urge to push it away discomfort rippling out from where Slade's hand touched. Darren didn't want to ruin this, he wanted—no _needed_ —to know his father. He might not get another chance, "How are you?" Darren thought for a moment,

"Well…I'm not dead anymore," Slade did crack a smile at that, though it was a dry empty one at the dark humor of his statement,

"That is a relief," he stated dryly, "I am disappointed the Bats got to you first a week ago. We would have been away from here by then,"

"It's more complicated than that," Darren stated, "You know that I'm the Powers's ward, we would have been wanted everywhere internationally for forever,"

"That is true," Slade grunted, if not a bit flippantly, "But it would have made giving you your birthday present easier,"

"You knew my birthday passed?" Darren asked. Slade rolled his eyes,

"They've blinded you with their hate for me," he growled, "Of course I knew your birthday passed. Now here, take the present and open it," Darren rolled his eyes in return—now nearly back to their original color; only a hint of gold around the edges of the pupil remained—as he tore into the wrapping paper…careful not to destroy what was inside the box as he did so. His strength had yet to come back…and he wasn't looking forward to when it did. The present revealed itself to be four shuriken throwing stars, they practically glowed silver in the pale moonlight. Darren grinned as he picked one up and placed his finger over the tip to test its sharpness. A drop of blood appeared but quickly clotted and closed over as if it had never been there,

 _"Nea_ t…thank you," Darren stated, "I'm glad you knew," Slade didn't wince or balk at that statement,

"I know I do have a lot of birthdays to make up for…expect presents over the next week or so,"

"No explosives, please…I think that would be a bit obvious and a bit over the top,"

"Yeah," Slade stated, ruffling Darren's hair, and again Darren resisted the urge to grimace at the sudden gesture, though his spine did stiffen in response to his consternation, "explosives don't seem to be your style,"

"And what do you think is my style?" Darren asked raising an eyebrow. He wondered if his father would get this right,

"You seemed very taken with the dual blades you fought with at the warehouse, perhaps I can find you a set," was his dad's reply. Darren couldn't help but smile again, though it wavered as a questioned rolled through the surprised pleasure at his father's correct assumption, 

"Why don't they like you?" Darren dared to ask,

"Histories tend to blur over time," Slade replied, "I've made many enemies and hurt many people for money, for revenge, for other peoples' revenge…I've ensnared myself into webs too twisted to escape,"

"In other words, it's too complicated to explain in less than five minutes?" Darren supplied, disappointed in the vagueness of the response he did get. It seemed he'd forever get those kinds of replies…no matter where he lived. With or away from the Court. To be honest, Dick and everyone else had been more honest with him than the Court or his own father,

"I have made many people angry over the years and I've become angry at many people in return, my hatred for them lies in the fact that they interfere in matters that they shouldn't. I know you hold hatred within you, I know you want some revenge on the Court," Darren chewed on his cheek for a brief moment before replying,

"Perhaps I do," he replied, "I can't get it…not right now. I'm still healing and I have no control over my enhanced abilities. I mean I am learning, just…it's difficult,"

"Now I could have assisted you with those kinds of abilities if you had come with me when you were able to," Slade reminded him,

"I was drugged and nearly injected with some weird chemical…plus I nearly died that night. You can't blame me for not trusting you," he purposefully left out the _'then,'_ he still needed time to completely trust his father after he pulled that move,

"And had I explained what I planned to you beforehand would you have accepted it?"

"—Well…I mean…no. I probably wouldn't have," Darren admitted, pointedly looking away from Slade's slight scowl at him,

"As you recover and as you gain more and more freedom…maybe you could get away from this place and I can help you learn control. You'll still be protected from Talons and your brothers will be there as well. You claim you wanted to know us and Richard…this is how you can," Darren bit his lip,

"I don't know…if we can make it work then maybe—I mean I want to, I do. It's just…" Darren trailed off helplessly. Slade sighed and clapped a hand on his shoulder once more, this time Darren pulled back a little from his touch though Slade didn't seem to notice or mind...Darren relaxed ever slightly by that realization,

"Courage is resistance to fear, my boy. I know you fear the Court…but you must overcome that. You have the potential to be something in this world of ours, it's up to you to figure out what that is. You have anger towards them, use that fiery anger to end them…use that anger to win. They deserve to feel your wrath," Slade stated fiercely, his hand curling into a fist, "You can make up your mind later. Goodnight Darren," Darren repressed a grimace at Slade's words, they didn't sit right with him. They mirrored what William always sneered at him too much, but Darren didn't say anything as Slade slipped back out of his room and leapt to the ground below. Slade disappeared into the night, and with a sigh Darren muttered,

"Goodnight dad," before turning back to his bed with a slightly defeated slouch…he was tired…but that bed was a nightmare right now. And frankly, he didn't want to sleep…not yet. Darren eyed the door…maybe he could go exploring.

* * *

Making it down the stairs was an adventure. It wasn't that Darren couldn't see the stairs, it was the light-headedness. He didn't understand why he kept feeling that way, no one understood it. Dr. Leslie was coming to give him a check-up and while Darren wasn't necessarily excited about it, he hoped she'd know what was going on with him. He made it down the stairs slowly one at a time, which took a lot of time but it was enough to get him down. Darren had been trying to get downstairs over the past two days, both days he nearly fell down said stairs because he got so dizzy. At the moment it seemed that he was doing okay, his head wasn't spinning that much. He'd had a big dinner, maybe that's what's helping.

Darren finally made it to the landing and he started looking around. There was a large bay window off to his right in the living room. A large flatscreen TV and a huge comfy looking sofa, a bunch of bookshelves and shelves filled with photos, vases, sculptures, and trophies. The dining room was to the left with a swinging door within the room leading to the kitchen. The entranceway to the Manor as straight ahead with a stand of armor off to the side and paintings on the walls. Darren turned down the hallway leading back and under the archway of the stairs towards the back of the mansion, the part of the house he hadn't seen yet.

Walking on the ground level was easier, Darren's head didn't feel quite so fuzzy. He continued walking around the house, trying to be as silent as possible—not that difficult since he had been trained to do as such since he was little—he didn't want to wake anyone up if they were back for the night. Darren past by countless rooms. A pool table and table tennis room, a movie room, a library filled with so many books that he'd love to read if it wasn't so hard for him. He passed through a room filled with paintings of the Wayne family through the years. There was one from last year that he examined briefly. It was a somewhat stiff painting, but it was one where everyone was present, even Titus was included. With a small hesitant grin, Darren continued on his way through the darkened Manor. The mansion reminded him somewhat of Crowne Manor from the blurry memories he had of the place. It had a similar structure, a similar feel to it. Darren wanted to say that feeling was what home should feel like…but this place wasn't quite there, not yet. At least Darren didn't think so.

Darren walked down another hallway, passing another ballroom when he stopped, light was coming through the crack of a door. It was Bruce's office, he was sure. He could hear the grandfather clock ticking away inside hiding the entrance to the Batcave. Slightly confused he wondered if he should investigate or continue on with his exploration. On one hand, he wondered if they had come back already when Slade came to visit him or if they had just returned now. Biting his lip Darren walked onwards, trying to slide silently over the floorboards. Darren had made it past the doorway when it opened and light spilled into the corridor,

"Darren?" a familiar voice questioned. It was Bruce. He was dressed in sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt. It wasn't something Darren was used to seeing him in—though the only other outfits he had seen Bruce wear was the Batsuit and an actual suit. Darren hadn't seen much of Bruce during his stay at the Manor and he didn't know if it was because of who he was related to or if it was because Bruce just didn't know what to make of him. Holding back a sigh Darren turned to face Bruce,

"Yes?" he asked quietly, shifting from foot to foot absentmindedly. He'd forgotten what an imposing frame Mr. Wayne had. He stood over Darren like a wall of shadow basking in the light from his office. Darren may be tall for his age, but Bruce still towered over him,

"What are you doing down here?" Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow. Darren didn't answer right away. He tried to read Bruce's expression…was he angry at him? Was there a reason he shouldn't be down here…would he punish him for being down here? Swallowing slightly Darren answered,

"I—um—I couldn't sleep," was his reply. Bruce's hard gaze softened in understanding,

"Were you looking for something or someone in particular?" he asked,

"Uh…no. Just exploring," Bruce smiled. Darren didn't know what to make of it, but he was relieved he wasn't going to get yelled at,

"I remember Dick, Jason, and Tim doing much of the same when they first came to the Manor,"

"Who's Jason?" Darren asked. Bruce's expression darkened slightly, and Darren tried to backtrack, "What are you doing in your office?"

"Finishing up some work. Believe it or not, I still have a company to run in the morning,"

"And everyone else is back?"

"Yes. Sent them to bed an hour ago. Dick went back to his apartment. Just to get some clean clothes though. His stuff here doesn't fit him anymore. He'll be back soon enough,"

"Did…did you run into any Talons out there tonight?" Darren asked gravely. He hadn't been out there with them, he wanted to know if they had any difficulties or encounters with them…it was Darren's fault they were being targeted now. It was his fault the Court had awakened so much since the Night of Owls. Bruce sighed and reached out towards Darren. Involuntarily Darren flinched back away from the reaching arm, his back slamming into the hallway wall. Alarmed panic rang through Darren, erasing any muted discomfort from slamming his injuries against the wooden wall. Bruce stopped in his effort and abruptly dropped the arm, concern flashing across his face. Darren realized then—belatedly—that he'd only been reaching to put a hand on his shoulder in a gesture of comfort,

"No, we didn't encounter any Talons. We were all fine…let's get some hot chocolate. I find that helps me get back to sleep when I've had a tough night," Bruce declared. Darren, embarrassed by his reaction, could only nod in agreement and followed Bruce down back to the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I did do some editing here on what I originally had. I have to say, I find it really interesting because everyone who is reading this series on this platform is getting a kind of 'new'—in the context of that, I'm going back and starting to post from the very beginning of this all—and improved version of this story. In this series, there are three—going on four—installments, and this very first one was written before I actually knew the direction I was going to go in and who Darren was as a character. Now I'm going back with more knowledge and understanding of Darren as a character with the ability to write him more accurately and to also create more of a foundation for where he's going to go over the next two installments of this series. I just think it's all really cool and interesting as well as exciting for first-time readers such as yourselves. 
> 
> As always if you have any questions, comments or concerns PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT. I'd love to hear your thoughts, good or bad, there is always room for improvement and I welcome the opportunity to make Darren's story better.


	23. Chapter 23

Bruce and Darren sipped their hot chocolate in silence. The void of it swallowing them up. The clock blinked at them a very early hour in the morning, soon dawn would break and it would be yet another sleepless night for Darren. Nonetheless, Darren drank his hot chocolate greedily. Bruce only sipped at his, and he seemed to be mulling over something,

"I'm sorry for making Dick ask you those questions earlier," Bruce stated finally. Darren looked at him over his steaming mug and he shrugged,

"You had questions. I answered,"

"I feel they are the reason you're up so late," Darren shrugged again,

"This isn't the first time this has happened," they both went back to drinking their hot chocolate. Silence filled the kitchen again, and Darren swung his feet back and forth under the island counter, careful not to hit the base of the underlying cabinets as he did so. The sound would not only annoy him but probably annoy Bruce. And he didn't want that, though it seemed like Bruce wouldn't care really if he did that anyway,

"I do want to ask you one more thing," Bruce said, setting his mug down, "Where is the compound? We were going to ask you tomorrow—well now today—but since we are here…" he trailed off looking over at Darren,

"It's the old abandoned warehouse district. The Owls…or one member of the Owls own the land where the warehouses were built. They used to use it for storage, but once the Night of Owls happened they packed everything up and moved us there," Bruce nodded, "Cobb's room is on the top floor facing out towards the city. The third window from the right…dead center pretty much,"

"Thank you," he said,

"No problem," Darren replied. He felt indifferent about revealing the information. The location of where Darren had been trained wasn't as difficult to tell anyone as what had happened to him was. He shot those thoughts down. Back in Bruce's office, a phone rang, and Darren flinched at the sudden shrill sound, spilling his coco all over the countertop,

"S-sorry!" he stammered, frantically looking for a dishrag to clean it up. Bruce handed him one,

"Don't worry. It was an accident," he said before setting his mug down for good it seemed, "If you excuse me I need to answer that. A phone call at four in the morning is never good news." With that, Bruce left the room. Darren mopped up the spill he'd made and continued to sip what was left of his drink with the other hand. His ears were still ringing from the sudden shrill sounding tone of the phone but other than that the room was blissfully quiet. He could hear Bruce talking quietly on the phone back in his office, but Darren wasn't in the mood to listen in. He rested his head on the countertop, his stomach full of sweet hot chocolate, warm even against the cool surface of the island counter. Smiling slightly Darren closed his eyes.

* * *

The clock opened as Bruce set the phone back down on his desk. He turned to see Dick walking through, a backpack hanging off one shoulder and a duffle in his other hand. Bruce raised an eyebrow at that,

"Planning on staying for a while?" Dick gave him a somewhat irritable look,

"My cousin is here who I have not known about for fifteen years and who cannot stay at my place because he is both a ward of a different family and at risk of being killed or kidnapped by undead assassins, who my penthouse in the heart of Gotham City can't defend him from. Of course, I'm staying here as long as humanly possible,"

"No need to be so defensive Dick. I was trying to be humorous. This is your home," Dick sighed, setting his duffle down on an available chair,

"I know. It's just been a stressful week,"

"It has," Bruce agreed, "I just got off the phone with Shepard Powers," Dick's eyes widened,

"Wh—," Bruce cut Dick off and put a finger to his lips, "—at?" Dick ended his exclamation in a hissed whisper,

"Darren is in the kitchen," Bruce whispered. He didn't want to alarm or scare the boy any more than he already was. Bruce thought back to when Darren flinched away from him only moments before. Bruce knew to stop whatever he had been in the midst of doing immediately but didn't know how to react to that aggressive movement away from him. On one hand, Bruce was furious that the Court instilled such fear and distrust in someone so young…it was like Darren expected to be punished for walking around so late in the dark which only furthered his suspicions on the treatment Darren endured while in the custody of the Court of Owls, it was concerning. On the other hand, Bruce had wanted to comfort the boy—assure Darren that he meant no harm, that he was there to protect and support him—but knew that Darren didn't know him well enough, and to try and offer support would be more disastrous than helpful after such a reaction. It disheartened Bruce too that Darren would associate him as someone who would hurt him though he didn't blame Darren for that. Darren didn't know him, Bruce only hoped that over time Darren would get over that association. Of course, it appeared they didn't have that much time after all,

"What did he want?" Dick questioned, a frown creasing his face. Taking on the Court of Owls was an expansive endeavor, dangerous and quite possibly a death wish...but facing the Powers and their legal right to Darren was a more difficult and daunting task. It was also an immediate task, they could not lose Darren to the Powers...which meant Dick needed to take legal custody of Darren, a different kind of responsibility and one Dick perhaps questioned he was ready for. Bruce could relate, it was a constant feeling in the early years of Dick's own adoption,

"For us to return Darren 'home'" Bruce answered, keeping his silent musings to himself. Instead focusing on the matter at hand, "Do it by noon today and this whole problem will _'disappear,'"_

"We can't do that," Dick muttered, glowering at the mere concept of giving Darren back over to the Powers and therefore to the Court,

"Of course we can't. Darren will just get sent back to the Court. It was hard enough to get him away the first time, and that was when he'd escaped them himself to start off. A second time won't be that easy,"

"We need to get that chest," Dick stated, crossing his arms with a thoughtful expression on his face,

"I asked him where the compound was located. It's in the old warehouse district," 

"Then we'll have to plan out our infiltration tomorrow—or I guess today," was Dick's reply, pausing as if considering something before looking up and tilting his head as he often did before asking a question, "Why was he up?"

"He said he couldn't sleep," Bruce stated, "He didn't go into the details," Dick frowned, raising an eyebrow,

"Well…did you make him hot—,"

"—yes I did," Bruce interrupted,

"You didn't drug the drink did you?" Dick asked, a slight hint of a smirk on his face,

"I considered it, seeing how easily it worked on you and Jason when you were younger and having nightmares. But I thought better of it. He already doesn't trust me. Doing that would make things worse, besides, he was tired enough as it was. He'll fall asleep on his own soon,"

"That's good. And it's not that he doesn't trust you Bruce…he just doesn't trust the fact that you're in a position of authority. Shepard had—I guess still has—authority over Darren and his future...in a sense so do you. William was in charge of all the Talons…you're in charge of all us vigilantes. Cobb and Shepard both hurt him…and Darren doesn't know you. Not yet, not truly," Bruce sighed,

"I reached over to place a hand on his shoulder…to try to comfort him in the hallway…and he flinched away from me. It wasn't big, but the message was clear,"

"He'll get over it. He'll find out you're secretly a giant teddy bear soon enough," Bruce rolled his eyes at that, ignoring Dick's grin in response. Always able to find the humor even in light of troubling and dark times,

"I'm going to head up to bed. You should do the same and we should make sure Darren gets upstairs okay. He may have gotten down here alright but it was half an hour before I heard him pattering down the hall." They walked back to the kitchen to find Darren snoring lightly into the countertop, completely asleep and unresponsive to the world around him. Dick chuckled,

"Well what do you know, you were right," Bruce rolled his eyes as he shushed Dick and pointed to his ears to remind him that Darren could wake up by the simplest of sounds. Darren of course didn't wake, not even as Dick carefully lifted him up—his head lolling onto Dick's shoulder—and carried him back upstairs to the room he was currently staying in. Bruce headed to the master bedroom. Wondering how they would evade the Powers if their plan—whatever it may be—fails.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter, it was short and sweet but telling in its own way. Hopefully, you are all really enjoying this story. Please let me know what you think, I really appreciate hearing from you guys. 
> 
> As always if you have any questions, comments and/or concerns PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT!


	24. Chapter 24

_Darren was trapped. He was immobilized by ropes. No matter how hard he squirmed or wiggled he could not get out. He tried calling out for help, he tried to get someone's attention but nothing happened. No one came to help him. It was dark and he didn't know where he was. His heart was racing, he was afraid and he didn't even know why. He bucked and tried twisting around to free himself only to pitch over some unknown edge and…_

_…CRASH_

Darren blinked up at the ceiling of his room, confused with his heart still racing at the remnants of his dream. He took a deep breath and lifted his head to see that he'd completely fallen off the bed. The sheets were pulled and twisted around him like a cocoon, pillows were strewn across the room as well. Last night must've been a restless night even if he was out cold for most of it. Stomping feet echoed down the hall and the door flung open to reveal Dick, looking around panicked,

"What was that noise? Is someone in here? Are you okay?" he asked rapid-fire, looking frantically around the room. Darren scowled up at him,

"I'm fine," Darren muttered, kicking at the sheets around his legs until he was free. He then rolled back over his shoulder to his knees,

"What are you doing on the floor?"

"I fell out of bed, _why else?"_ Darren stated,

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," Dick stated crossing his arms,

"Again, I _fell_ out of bed. I don't even know how I _got_ to bed. The last thing I remembered was being in the kitchen," Darren stated, frowning down at the pile of sheets and comforter, 

"I carried you up here. You fell asleep on the counter. Oh, right here's some breakfast, I was gonna wake you up when you apparently fell out of bed," Dick stated, with a grin, pulling out a tray he'd left on a decorative table in the hallway, "Dr. Leslie will be here in an hour so you might want to eat up,"

Darren bit back a groan and took the food. He'd forgotten about that. He didn't know this woman and he wasn't particularly fond of doctors. All the ones he'd dealt with were awful and not big on doing things with painkillers. Of course those were also Talons who didn't particularly feel pain or understood that even though the trainees were Talons-to-be they weren't Talons yet and could still feel pain. As Darren munched on his toast and eggs he grimaced at the memory of a particularly bad injury he'd gotten when he was nine…and the Talon who'd been the one to fix it. He forgot the name of the guy but he was someone Darren actively avoided after that fix-up,

"Why the long face?" Dick asked, munching on his own breakfast. Darren was touched he'd thought to eat with him. He'd been quarantined to the floor he was on since he kept getting light-headed walking around and trying to go downstairs. He'd even fainted once trying and knew it was worrying them. They never mentioned their growing concern for him but he knew it was there. Hopefully, Dr. Leslie would be able to figure out what was happening,

"This…Dr. Leslie," Darren started, "…is she _nice?"_ Dick's eyes showed confusion but he replied anyway without prying,

"Of course she is. Leslie's the best person ever. We'd be dead half the time without her. She's saved my life dozens of times. I never would have gotten to that warehouse without her patching me up and letting me use her computer," Darren nodded slowly before asking his next question,

"Um…when she gets here…could you—I mean, if you can…I don't want to prevent any plans you have—could you maybe, stay?" Darren knew he was babbling, but Dick only smiled gently and nodded,

"Of course I'll stay. You can tell me to beat it any time you want throughout it though,"

"Okay. Good. Thanks," Darren said smiling slightly. The pit in his stomach lessening a bit. He finished the rest of his meal and handed his plate back to Dick who took it and the tray back downstairs. Then, with a small sigh, Darren stood and got dressed for when the doctor showed up.

* * *

Dr. Leslie Thompkins was a small elderly woman with grey hair in a bun and glasses. She carried a small bag filled with whatever she needed when she made house calls. The woman looked nothing like the giant, muscled Talon that treated Darren whenever he was injured or ill. Still, Darren shifted from foot to foot nervously as Dr. Leslie put the bag down on the nightstand and turned to face him. Dick was seated in one of the comfy chairs he had moved in front of the bed,

"Hello Darren. It is wonderful to finally meet you, even if it is as one of my patients,"

"Uh…you too," Darren stated, shaking her hand awkwardly. Dick let out a chuckle from the chair which Darren glared at,

"Oh ignore him," Leslie said dismissively, "I'll have you know mister I had to change all my passwords because of you,"

"Sorry?" Dick stated shrugging. Leslie rolled her eyes, shaking her head and giving Darren a look like, 'can you believe this guy.' With a sigh she again addressed Darren,

"Okay. Let's start with the basics."

So Dr. Leslie took Darren's weight, height, and blood pressure. She shined a light into his eyes and nose and mouth, looked in his ears. She didn't say anything throughout until she was officially finished with the usual checkup requirements,

"Height is above what is average for fifteen-year-olds, which isn't abnormal. His weight is slightly under what it should be, but that is understandable with your activity level and recent events. Blood pressure is slightly lower than what is normal, but you are again very athletic so that isn't that worrisome…unless you are experiencing some dizzy spells," Darren, not wanting this checkup to be any longer than it was held his tongue, Dick on the other hand apparently did not get that he didn't want this to be any longer than it had to be...spoke up,

"He has been dizzy when walking around. That's why he's holed up here, he gets too light-headed trying to get downstairs or upstairs. He's even fainted at one point," Darren glared at Dick and Dick glared back. Leslie, unperturbed by the glaring, frowned,

"Is this happening when you sit up or stand up from sitting as well?"

"No…just when I walk around for a while. I don't know why though,"

"Have you been eating enough? Drinking enough and sleeping enough?"

"I think I've been eating and drinking enough. As for sleeping…not so much," Leslie frowned deeper than that. Darren wished she would stop doing that, it was making him nervous,

"The lack of sleep may be from what has happened the past week and a half. But it could also be a side effect from the two drugs interacting within you," Dick sat up a bit from his seat,

"What do you mean by that?"

"It means let me know if this inability to sleep continues," Leslie stated,

"Will do," Dick said, giving Darren a look that meant he would have to let Dr. Leslie know himself or Dick would do it and be mad at him for not doing it,

"Your eyes under the light were…intriguing. They glowed as an animal's eyes would, I suppose that means you have some tapetum lucidum and can see very well at night. It's very interesting. As for your eye color, they are back to normal, not a hint of gold in them which means you are done healing from your injuries. Even so, I would like to examine them myself, just to be sure," Darren didn't move for a second. He didn't know why but he suddenly felt like his chest was being sat on by an elephant and he was surprisingly very self-conscious about showing her or anyone his scars. Even so, after a moment of silence from both the doctor and Dick he pulled his long-sleeved shirt over his head and tossed it back on the bed, "Here, sit down," Dr. Leslie instructed, patting the bed for him to sit on. Darren sat crisscrossed on the edge, his back to the Doctor. Dick, who sat slightly off to his left, caught his eye and mouthed 'you okay?' to him. Darren jerked his head in a nod and stared fiercely out the windows as Dr. Leslie lightly ran her hand over the scar tissue along his back. She didn't say anything and the silence was killing him. He bit the inside of his cheek and twisted the sheets with his hands just to give him something to do. After another moment she sighed and stated,

"The wounds do look well healed. Let me look at your hands too," Darren got up from his perch and twisted around to show her his hands. The thin pale scars very apparent against his skin. She turned them to the backs and instructed him to open and close his hands and wiggle his fingers,

"There was no nerve damage," Darren stated,

"I understand," Dr. Leslie replied, "But I want to make sure. No additional pain even now?"

"None," Darren replied. Leslie nodded before nodding to his chest,

"Does your rib bother you at all? Alfred told me one of the cuts were a bit too deep and nicked the bone,"

"Nope. It's fine," Leslie nodded yet again, content with his response before turning back to her bag and pulling out a bunch of vials and a small thin needle,

"Now comes the somewhat annoying part," she said, "I need to take some blood samples,"

"What…why?" Darren asked alarmed, stumbling back a step only to stop as he bumped into the edge of the bed sending him down on its edge abruptly. He tried to pull it off as if he meant to sit down the entire time, but he could tell from the looks the other two shared he didn't fool either of them,

"Well I was hoping I would be able to isolate both the Mirakuru and the Electrum in your blood and find out which is more dominantly there. That may affect how you heal from any future injuries if there are any. I also want to make sure you are getting enough nutrients from the food you are given, which I do not doubt you are, but your dizziness is worrying. Even with low blood pressure being a common cause for such thing it doesn't seem to be causing _your_ dizziness, so I'm also going to check your glucose levels along with that. The rest is just to look for normal things everyone is supposed to get tested for during their annual checkup. Is that okay?"

"Annual checkup?" Darren questioned. He'd never had one of those…maybe when he was younger since 's expression revealed that those seemed to be a thing most normal people went to, "I only ever went when I was sick or hurt," Leslie's expression turned thunderous,

"Oh I would have words with those Talons if I could," she muttered angrily before sighing and shaking her head, "Sit down Darren. This won't take long." And it didn't. She soon went down to the cave with the promise that as soon as she got the results she'd come back up to inform them what she found regarding the glucose levels. The rest would be done at her clinic.

Dick got up and meandered over to where Darren stood, his shirt back on again and tapping his foot anxiously,

"So," he started, casually placing an elbow on his shoulder, "why were you so nervous for this checkup? Leslie's the sweetest lady on the planet," Darren bumped the elbow off and side-glared his cousin,

"I wasn't nervous," he stated insistently,

"Your expression whenever she did something said differently," Darren sighed,

"Was it that obvious?"

"Yes. But I'm good at reading people too, it's an acrobat thing, gotta read the other person to know when to let go. So what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," Darren said, "Everything is great…it's just even though I'm away from the Court, it's like everything is still there. They're in the back of my mind…and I don't want that but they're _still_ there,"

"And what does that have to do with a doctor's appointment?" Dick asked, raising an eyebrow,

"Let's just say a visit from a Talon doctor is less than pleasant," Darren replied dryly. Dick looked like he'd try and ask what he meant when Leslie marched back into the room. She didn't exactly look unhappy but she looked less than pleased,

"You said you were eating!" she snapped glaring at Darren,

"I am! I ate my entire breakfast!" he cried, alarmed at her slight anger, "I mean I haven't had lunch but that was because I slept later than I usually did because I couldn't sleep until around…four or five in the morning," he was babbling again, but he couldn't help it, Leslie's disappointed expression made him feel bad and he wanted to explain himself though he wasn't exactly sure what he was explaining himself about,

"The glucose levels are virtually nonexistent, no wonder you're having dizzy spells and are nearly passing out every time you try and walk around!"

"Fast metabolism!" Both Dick and Darren exclaimed suddenly,

"We completely forgot about that!" Darren stated,

"Why didn't you tell us you were hungry!" Dick snapped, he looked like he wanted to smack Darren but thought better of it,

"I thought it was just the effects of lack of sleep! And I was drinking plenty of water so maybe that messed with the hunger pains…I don't know!"

"I'm sorry but what are you talking about?" Dr. Leslie demanded,

"Darren, well all Talons really, has a crazy fast metabolism. We remembered when he was injured but I guess we all forgot afterward," Dick explained, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly,

"How much calories does he need daily?" they both looked at Darren expectantly,

"Uh…I don't really know. I mean they never said a number they kinda just ate what they could," he answered, shrugging sheepishly, "It was a bit more first come first serve so we all fought teeth and claws—sometimes literally—to get food,"

"Well. It's a good thing we know so many people with fast metabolisms," Dick replied, "We'll give him a speedster's amount for his next meal. He eats what he can and we can subtract from what's leftover," Leslie nodded, she turned to Darren then and poked him in the chest as she spoke,

"And you better eat as much as you can mister. No wonder your weight was under and no wonder you were nearly passing out. I'm going take the rest of the stuff back to the clinic to get the rest of your results but you better eat more,"

"Yes ma'am," Darren mumbled, surprised by her insistence. Once she left the room Dick smirked at him,

"That was mama bear Thompkins. She's always hard on us if we don't take care of ourselves. She and Alfred are the ones that ultimately bench us if Bruce won't do it. And while Bruce will do it for visible injuries, she and Alfred do it for the invisible ones. They are after all our family doctors," Darren smiled at that. Not for the authority the two had over the vigilantes, but for the fact that Dick had included himself in as their family. Darren was Dick's family by blood, but being looped in with others was…touching. And Darren was glad for it,  
"Thanks," Darren said, slightly without meaning to,

"For what?"

"For staying…and for everything," Dick grinned,

"Anytime cuz, anytime. And you don't need to thank me. I'll always be there for you. I mean I wasn't—no I _couldn't_ —be there for you before, but I will be now. I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter! Please Please Please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT!


	25. Chapter 25

"What do you mean you're going to the compound?" Darren demanded at the dinner table that night. Dick had offered to piggy-back ride him down the stairs and as much as he disliked it, it was also very effective in getting him down there for dinner with everyone. He wondered why they didn't think of it sooner. Bruce looked over at Darren, a slight glare in his expression, forcing him to look away down at his place setting,

"We need to get those documents from the Court. We can't delay this anymore," Bruce stated, with some finality underlying his tone,

"What makes you think the Powers know anything or have done anything," silence reigned, "Unless they already have," Darren's eyes widen as he glanced around the table. Damian look stoic as ever though a slight grimace flickered across his face, Dick looked outright guilty what Tim merely frowned a sympathetic apology written in his gaze while Bruce's expression never wavered. It was as if the older man didn't understand why Darren was against the act of infiltrating the Compound...something that twisted in Darren's gut painfully. He didn't want them rushing into danger on his behalf, even if Darren wanted so desperately to be freed from the Court and especially from the Powers,

"You all knew?" he couldn't help but exclaim,

"Please Master Darren, do refrain from yelling at the table," Alfred stated as he brought in their dinner. Some normal portions for Dick, Tim, Bruce and Damian and a super large portion for Darren. He looked at the pile of food in surprise,

"Wow…that's _a lot_ to eat," Darren mumbled, his consternation momentarily forgotten,

"You do not have to eat all of it," Alfred stated, "Eat as much as you can..but don't gorge yourself. Eat until you are comfortably full," Darren internally braced himself for the 'you stupid boy' at the end of the butler's statement, but of course, it didn't come. Harold, the Powers's butler always snapped the expected phrase at him no matter what he did and while he knew Alfred wouldn't say it, he'd come to expect it over the years,

"Speedsters need to eat around ten thousand calories a day…you on the other hand probably don't need that much but until we figure it out—dig in," Tim stated gesturing to the plate. Darren shrugged and picked up his fork, about to do just that only to stop at noticing the stares they were giving him,

"Uh…could you not—,"

"—boys, let him eat in peace," Bruce stated,

"You were watching him too," Tim pointed out as Darren, with a smile, dug into his food. It was odd to eat with them after so long. It was a quieter meal than Darren had ever experienced. More conversation, less fighting each other for food. Darren was so used to loud, obnoxious fights breaking out over food, said food being scattered and thrown around the room and shouting accompanying the fighting and food spattering. Here it was more…causal and calmer. It was odd. But Darren found he actually liked it better than any of the meals he had at the galas or the dinner party he went to. That was different he paid no mind to the conversations around him, here it was better. It was nicer…it was more enjoyable,

"You still didn't answer my question," he said around the mouthful of food he'd shoved in. He hadn't realized how _hungry_ he was until he started eating,

"Yes. We knew. But we didn't want to alarm you," Bruce stated evenly, "The Powers contacted me asking about you…I didn't say anything,"

"But they know I'm here then," Darren said swallowing and then taking another big forkful of food,

"Allegedly," Dick said, "they demanded we 'return' you. But that's not happening, so our only option is to get the chest. Bruce and I are going tonight. From what we gathered over the past day…well past few hours…is that he's been going out to search for you every night with a group of other Talons—I guess he doesn't know if we or your father actually ended up getting you away. The Powers calling was most likely done in an effort wheedle information about your whereabouts from us, but not saying anything they still don't know where you are...just that you're gone,"

"The Powers also still haven't reported you missing to the authorities, so it's clear they plan to keep this as quiet as possible," Tim butted in, Dick nodded in agreement before continuing,

"Cobb has also been carrying out some hits for the Court, but he's out for most of the night nonetheless. We'll sneak in and sneak out no big deal,"

 _"Yes_ , big deal. There are dozens of highly trained undead assassins in there _with_ super hearing!" Darren emphasized,

"We've done things like this before. Darren, we'll be fine," Dick said. Darren didn't say anything, just shot Dick an unconvinced glare before shoving more food in his mouth. Looking down at his plate he realized he'd already eaten half of his food,

"Why do I have to stay behind? I understand leaving Drake at the Manor, but me?" Damian demanded, narrowing his eyes at Dick and Bruce. Darren got the impression he was very stubborn and determined when it came to being where the action was. He also seemed, and Darren didn't want to be presumptuous, like an arrogant ass most of the time…though to be fair he didn't really know the kid, "I know all there is to know about assassins. I'd be an asset,"

"The less that come the better Damian. We don't want this infiltration to turn into a rescue," Bruce stated. Damian growled out a mumbled response that Bruce pretended not to hear and looked over the dining table occupants as if trying to find someone to take his frustration out on,

"Your hand was almost blurring you are shoveling food in so fast. It is disgusting," Damian stated from across the table,

"Damian," Bruce scolded slightly,

"What. _It is,"_

"He needs to eat. He can eat at whatever speed he wants to," Tim declared,

"I didn't even realize I was eating that fast," Darren replied, still eating, though he was feeling slightly full,

"Remember there's still dessert," Dick said, Darren's fork stilled,

"Dick we need to figure out how much calories he needs first," Bruce stated firmly,

"But he _loves_ dessert,"

"I _do_ love dessert," Darren agreed dejectedly,

"There will be plenty tomorrow," Darren nearly pouted, but caught himself and stopped before he could. He instead sighed and continued his meal,

"There's also always midnight snacks," Tim whispered to him from the seat next to him. Darren grinned impishly and continued to dig into his meal.

* * *

"Darren, if you pace anymore you're going to wear a hole in the ground," Tim said from the couch in the living room. Darren stopped in his motion to look over at him, a slight scowl on his face. Tim was propped up in the corner of the L-shaped couch with a book in his hand,

"Sorry," he muttered, "I can't help it if I'm worried. This whole mess is my fault. They're risking themselves for me _again_ ,"

"This _isn't_ your fault. William had no right to take those documents from your home, this is _his_ fault. And the Powers' fault for going along with the falsified copy of the will. If that is the case," Darren's eyes widened, he hadn't considered whether the small chance that the will wasn't a fake,

"What happens if it isn't a fake?" he voiced out loud, hoping his voice remained steady...his emotions had been so haywire since being taken in by the Bats and it was a mortifying realization. Things had been different in the Nest...and the Bats were not them. What Darren expected from the Talons, the Bats didn't do...and it was confusing and it was clearly confusing to him internally as well. At least that's what Darren hoped was the case,

"Then Dick can still claim custody. It will be a hell of a battle with a shitload of DNA tests and he'd have to admit to being the descendant of an illegitimate child of Amelia Crowne in order to fully have a claim at taking you in. There will be a court case trial and all that. But you knew that,"

"I know," Darren replied mutely. He unconsciously gnawed at the skin around his thumb,

"Darren relax. I am ninety-nine percent sure that the will is a fake. I don't think your mother would want you to live with the Powers,"

"I wonder who she did want me to live with," Tim shrugged,

"We'll find out later tonight…or tomorrow I guess. They still have patrol to get through,"

"Aren't you and Damian going out?" Darren asked,

"No. Even though Bruce told Damian he couldn't come because fewer people are better—which is true—it's a school night. By the time they get out of the Compound, it would probably be too late for us to join them anyway,"

"Oh…school," Darren muttered. He'd always wondered what regular schooling was like. He'd been to preschool and kindergarten he was sure but it was a bit of a blur and he knew that the later grades were nothing like those first few years of schooling. Tim seemed to be mulling over something before he closed his book,

"What was your education like?" he asked. Darren thought for a moment before shrugging,

"I dunno…like any other way of learning, only taught by Owls and Talons?"

"The Owls taught you?" Darren rolled his eyes and moved to sit on the arm of the couch,

"Yeah. It's not as interesting as you may think. They made literally everything about the Court. Even _math_ ,"

"Why?"

"It was kind of their way of brainwashing the Talons-to-be. You know make everything all about the Court therefore literally everything they know is associated with the Court. It didn't work on me though, it went right over my head," he didn't mean to say it so bitterly. Tim frowned at that,

"I don't think it went over your head, Darren—,"

"—Trust me it did. They made that abundantly clear," Darren interrupted,

"Well I think it had to do with the fact that you biologically had Mirakuru in your system," Tim said, "It may not have been enough to alter your brain from being dyslexic but it definitely can protect you from any attempts of brainwashing, Mirakuru—,"

"You knew?" Darren exclaimed, stumbling off the arm of the couch. Tim looked at Darren oddly, tilting his head to the side slightly,

"Yeah, I knew you were dyslexic. Is that a problem?"

"I—um…well…"

"Did you not want anyone to find out? Why? Plenty of people have learning disabilities,"

"I know that…I do…it's just…nothing," Darren said with a sigh, "How did you figure it out?"

"You never asked for a book the whole time you were upstairs. The bookshelves weren't touched. You liked playing on people's phones more than any other form of entertainment. And also how you said things sometimes…like you didn't want to try and say—er—bigger words. I kinda guessed I didn't know for sure. I suspected,"

"Yeah I guess it wasn't that obvious," Darren agreed, "You never asked me to do a math problem though. I suck at math. They made sure I was educated enough to get a GED though. I can read well above my supposed grade level even though I struggle a lot. Dates still get messed up in my head and I can't do mental math very well…but they drilled everything into my head. It was a lot of work. They tested me a lot too, to make sure I was actually trying,"

"I take it if you didn't do well they'd punish you?" Darren's hands unconsciously curled into fists,

"Yeah they did," he replied softly, "But I got better which is how I am where I am today,"

"How? What did you do differently?"

"A lot of all-nighters. We were training all the time then so there was no time to study and even if I had the time I didn't know how…so…so Asher helped me. He was better with everything else and he stayed up with me so I could learn it all too,"

"That must've been tiring,"

"They didn't punish us that much for slacking off during training, at least not until we were older. So it was worth it," Darren couldn't help but smile, "Asher…he'd say…that since I helped him when he first arrived the least he could do was help me study and learn,"

"He sounds like a good friend,"

"Yeah…he was," Darren replied, his smile falling. Tim sighed looking thoughtful before he stood up plopping the book back on the couch,

"I think I know of a way we can pass the time," he said, "I'll be right back," with that he left the room and ran upstairs. Darren started pacing again and worrying about his cousin…and Bruce, sort of. He didn't really know what quite to make of him yet, but he didn't want anything to happen to either of them because of him. He's already a pretty big burden on them as it was. On the next turn of his heel, Darren realized he was gnawing on the skin around his thumb again. He stopped his pacing to frown down at his hands. He hadn't done that since he was a child. He'd done it often his first two years at Harbor House, he was scared and sad. His mother had just died. But the constant thumb in his mouth annoyed William so he broke Darren's thumb one time he caught Darren doing it,

 _"Do it again with the other and I will break it too,"_ he'd hissed at him. Darren could still see it in his mind's eye. William towering over him and the throbbing of his then broken thumb. They still made him train with it in its little cast. Darren never did it again,

"Darren?" Tim was back and he hurriedly wiped his thumb on his pants before facing him. He carried a thick looking book and his computer,

"What's that?" he asked eyeing the book warily,

"Okay bear with me, but I'm going to teach you how to code,"

"No," Darren said, "Nope, not going to happen," moving to return to his pacing,

"Oh come on, you don't know that!" Tim said, putting the computer and the book on the coffee table, gesturing Darren over to the couch,

"Did you not just hear about my struggles regarding education in general?"

"I did and I know it was tough but you had fucked up teachers,"

"How do I know you're not fucked up?" Darren demanded,

"Ha ha ha," Tim deadpanned, this time pulling Darren by the arm making him sit down next to him, "The difference is I basically rewrote this book,"

"How is that the difference?"

"It's the difference because it will be easier to understand. This is all mumbo jumbo fancy written ways to teach people to code. I shorthanded it. It'll be fun,"

"You have a messed up sense of fun," 

"Oh yeah. And what's you're idea of fun," Darren thought for a second…then another. A pause…then,

"I…I don't _know_. Dual sword fighting?"

"Don't you play chess?"

"I made that up,"

"I'll teach you that too," Darren barely resisted the urge to groan,

"C'mon Darren. Bear with me for the first three chapters and then you can quit,"

"Fine," Darren growled, snatching the book from him, "But you better help me read this shit,"

* * *

They were at it for two and a half hours. It wasn't easy. It had been a while since Darren had done anything logic-wise since getting his GED. Before it had been something that marked his freedom from all the hard testing and rigorous studying the Court had put him through. Now it was something that…Darren didn't even know what it was. He didn't know why Tim was doing this. Was it just to show Darren he could learn to code? Was it to prove to him that he wasn't completely idiotic half the time trying to read the freaking book? Darren didn't know. Maybe it would have its purpose but it didn't seem like there was one at the moment.

Eventually, Darren let out a growl and threw the book across the room. Tim sighed and picked the computer up off the table and put to next to him on the couch,

"You were doing great Darren," he said,

"No I wasn't,"

"Well you were doing better than I thought you would," Darren let out a bitter snort,

"Thanks," he snapped,

"That was a compliment!"

"What's the point of this? To frustrate me? To show me how bad I am at learning things? News flash I _already_ know that. They told me that every day!"

"And I'm saying that you were doing great. There's a difference. You were actually doing really well for a first-time coder,"

"Just because I was reading that book doesn't mean I get what it says,"

"That's because we didn't get to the questions at the end where you put what was read into code," Tim said calmly getting up and retrieving the book,

"Why are you teaching me this. Really why are you?"

"Because for all you know you could be good at it. It could become a hobby for you," Darren let out a bitter laugh,

"Yeah, a dyslexic coder. That's likely,"

"Don't knock it till you try it," Tim said, placing it on the coffee table in front of him and sitting back down,

"I don't get any of it! It's pointless!" Darren snapped moving to swipe the book off the table again but instead, he swiped the coffee table itself. It flew across the room and smashed into the fireplace mantel, cracking into two jagged pieces. Darren and Tim stood froze staring at the cracked coffee table, the book clattering to the floor,

"Boys! What was that noise?" Alfred called from somewhere in the house,

 _"Nothing!"_ They both cried,

"So…I uh…guess your strength is back?" Tim said,

"Yeah…I—I think it's clear that it…is," he muttered. They sat in silence for another moment,

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that. I was just frustrated and it wasn't because you were teaching me to code it was…I don't know what it was…I'm sorry don't be mad!" Darren sputtered out all at once,

"Whoa, Darren calm down. It's okay. You didn't mean to do that," Tim said, "To be honest…it was actually kind of funny," Darren blinked at Tim before glancing over at the broken table. He let out a small chuckle,

"Yeah…I guess it was kind of funny," Tim cracked a grin and suddenly they were both laughing uncontrollably—Darren more hesitantly, much quieter while Tim let out a carefree guffaw at what had just occurred,

"I…haha…I think we need to tell Bruce…haha…what happened," Tim said when he caught his breath somewhat. Darren instantly sobered,

"He won't be mad will he?"

"Not really. It's just a coffee table. It's replaceable," Darren nodded silently, though he still wasn't entirely convinced,

"Really, he won't be mad," Tim repeated, noticing the changed demeanor,

"Yeah I know…I'm just tired is all," Darren finished lamely. Tim raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything,

"We can continue working with the book if you want to,"

"No…I think I'm just going to go to bed actually," Darren said. He really was tired, his head was aching slightly from the letters in the book seemingly swimming around on the page. It was almost like trying to read cross-eyed to him, "But we could work on it again tomorrow,"

"Sure," Tim said, "Afterall you owe me for leaving me to explain this to Bruce," Darren grimaced slightly even as he edged up the stairs,

"Yeah…sorry not sorry," he stated quickly—he'd heard Dick say that once and thought it was funny—before dashing up the rest of the way. Sure it had been frustrating trying to read the book and learn some bits and pieces of the coding languages but it had been fun and Tim _was_ a good teacher. But It had reminded him of Asher during those long hours studying haphazardly without being caught by the other Talons. It made him feel untethered, perhaps even sad, like he was moving on from what he'd done too fast, too soon. His friend didn't deserve that. Darren didn't want to think of Asher as replaceable…not yet. With a sigh Darren slipped into his room and went tried to go to bed, hoping sleep wouldn't evade him as it seemed to do more often than not now that he was under the Manor's roof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter! It was a little bit of a filler but still with some insteresting bits of Darren's past as well as furthering their quest to find the will and get Darren from the Powers' clutches. As always if you guys have any questions, comments or concerns PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT


	26. Chapter 26

The next morning Darren actually woke up before everyone else. He'd actually slept through the night! Maybe Dr. Thompkins was right, the lack of sleep was just because of what happened to him. It was a relief to actually sleep a full eight hours. Of course, sleeping a few more would have been even more amazing, but the sunlight glaring into the room woke him up—he'd forgotten to close the curtains. With a grin, Darren hurried to the bathroom to get washed up for the day and to take a shower.

Unfortunately, the universe had other ideas. When Darren tried to open the door he pulled the handle off. Making it impossible to actually open the door. With a groan, he took a few steps back planning on ramming the door open with his shoulder. Darren had done it once before back in the Nest when William got mad enough to try and kick Darren near the door only for the doorknob to take the hit instead of him. Eventually, Darren fixed the broken door himself, but he had to scavenge for the material to do so on his own. He valued his privacy and a broken door didn't allow for that. Darren ran and slammed into the door which gave way, only way too easily and cracked in half underneath him. He scrambled to his feet trying to step over the pieces but instead tripped over them starting to fall rather ungracefully. Darren flailed trying to grab onto something, managing only to take hold of the toilet to stop his fall only to break off a piece of the porcelain,

"Crap!" Darren cried, hurrying to his feet only to stumble backward over a broken-off piece of the door he'd kicked away from the rest of the broken mess and into the shower curtain which he instinctively tried to grab onto to yet again keep himself upright as he toppled into the side of the tub. Sadly the curtain ripped off and Darren crashed into the tub. Darren sat in silence, amazed at the complete and utter mess he'd created just by walking around trying to _not_ break things. With a sigh, Darren got up slowly, chucked the piece of porcelain he still had in his hand into the toilet bowl carefully meandering through the broken bits of mahogany—this time without tripping—and moved to turn on the faucet at the sink. He stopped himself from grabbing it with his entire hand and instead used his pointer finger and thumb. It snapped off like it was a twig sending a spout of water hissing into Darren's face and everywhere else,

"What was all that loud noi—oh my goodness!" Alfred exclaimed, hurrying into the bathroom. Darren grabbed a rag and pressed it over the mini geyser while Alfred ducked under the counter and turned the water off. The Butler then looked over at Darren who was drenched and looking miserable, "Am I right to assume your strength has come back young sir?" he said. Darren nodded, resisting the urge to bite at his thumb out of nervousness,

"Dry off and go get dressed, I'll have breakfast ready in a hurry. Do not worry about this. It'll be easy enough to fix,"

"Really?" Darren asked skeptically, eyeing the mess uncertainly...he'd gotten punished for less when in the Nest. What if this kindness was just to lure him into a false sense of security,

"Of course. You'd be surprised at how many things break in this house," with that Alfred left the room leaving Darren to consider whether to clean everything up himself or to go get dressed. Eventually, and with great hesitance, Darren stumbled back into his room careful of his strength which seemed more of a hindrance than a help at the moment to get ready for the day.

Darren had been borrowing some of Tim and Dick's clothes since he was closer in height to the both of them. He'd rather have his own clothes but until the custody battle was actually declared and begun he couldn't go out in public with the Court still after him or with the occupants of Wayne Manor it would raise too many questions too soon. Once everything was started, Darren would have more freedom as him disappearing in any way would be suspicious since he was the center of the court case. Darren tugged on a T-shirt only to growl in annoyance and tug it off. Its sleeves stopped just before his scars did. The tip of the 'wing' went on past the sleeves to his elbows. He hated to see them. He hated them and he didn't want anyone else to see them. To remember what they were from, to remember what had happened to him…or for others to judge him for them. Maybe the Bats didn't…but Darren did judge himself for having them and seeing them just made him feel worse. Darren grabbed a sweatshirt instead and tugged it roughly on along with a pair of sweatpants before heading down to where he could smell pancakes cooking.

* * *

Everyone sadly had to either go to school or work so it was just Alfred and Darren at the manor. It wasn't so bad. He watched TV, helped Alfred with cleaning up his bathroom and he even tried to read the coding book Tim had on his own. He got through two chapters before he gave up again but it was something. Eventually, the workday came to an end as did the overbearing sense of solitude...and boredom. Tim disappeared into his room saying he had homework to do while Damian went down to the cave to train. Darren mentioned to Bruce that his strength had returned and debated asking to go into the cave himself but thought better of it. Darren was bored but didn't exactly want to say it outright. He was a guest and that seemed rude. Bruce frowned at the news and nodded before disappearing into the cave himself. Dick came back and demanded to know what Darren had done all day. Darren had been more interested in what _Dick_ had done all day, the concept of a day job as well as a nightlife as a vigilante seemed so contrasting to Darren. But his cousin got a phone call before he could answer. Alfred had started dinner and it had seemingly been the best day Darren had had in a very long time—perhaps not in excitement but rather in the sense that it was a normal everyday kind of day—when the doorbell rang.

Darren could hear Alfred stop what he was doing to get the door but Darren decided to beat the older man to it. It was the least he could do,

"I got it," Darren called to Alfred,

"That is all right Master Darren. But I can—," Darren ignored him and carefully pulled open the large front door—hoping not to break anything once more—only to freeze in horrified shock. Alfred stopped behind him seemingly surprised as well. Shepard and Lydia Powers stood outside the threshold of the Manor. Their eyes zeroed in on Darren immediately and their expressions darkened,

"There you are, Darren. We suspected you'd be here. Come on. Come. Home," Lydia stated, waving her hand towards the car parked in the long winding driveway. Darren stood frozen where he was, staring at them. The chill from outside blew his hair back, it raised gooseflesh on his arms and all Darren could do was just stare at them, at Shepard and Lydia. Darren's heart pounded, he felt like the room was spinning and it was almost hard to breathe. A large hand fell on his shoulder and Darren flinched unintentionally,

"Darren, go in the other room. It's time the Powers and I had a talk," it was Bruce and he looked angry. His dark grey eyes narrowing a thunderous air in his gaze as he glared at the man and woman outside his front door,

"There is nothing to discuss," Shepard stated, "the boy is ours legally. He _will_ be coming with us _tonight_ ," Darren had still not moved and he didn't know why. All he wanted to do was run as far as his legs would take him but he was frozen in place, legs locked so harshly they seemed to tremble. Darren hoped no one could see how he quaked, how he balked at the sight of his guardians,

"Tim, take Darren in the other room," Bruce called when it was clear Darren would not be moving on his own. A hand took him by the arm and started tugging him away from the entranceway as if guiding a sleepwalker. Bruce stepped outside with the Powers and closed the door, though Darren still gazed at the dark wooden frame as if he could still see the Powers through its strong solid surface...unable to look away, unable to feel anything but pain and fear and overall anguish at the mere thought of leaving this sanctuary...a place Darren was trying to consider home.

Tim took Darren to the movie room, guiding him as Darren stumbled over his own feet unable to focus on what he was doing or where he was going. Apparently Tim thought it was the best idea because there were no windows in the room facing the driveway where Bruce and the Powers were no doubt arguing over Darren at the moment. Darren tripped over his own feet and stumbled to his knees, twisting to lean against the wall, pulling his knees to his chest. He'd never been so ungraceful in all his life, or second life, William would have scoffed at him in annoyance,

"Darren. Are you okay?" Tim asked. He looked concerned, and Darren didn't really know how to answer him. Darren took a deep breath as if to speak only to pull in another gasp of air…then another and another as if he couldn't stop...as if he'd forgotten all other motor functions. Darren was shaking all over, trembling and he felt sick to his stomach,

"Alfred said I should come in here why—?" it was Dick, he stopped mid-sentence when he saw Darren huddled against the wall and Tim crouched next to him unsure of what to do, "What happened?" he asked hurrying over and kneeling next to Darren, who was still hyperventilating,

"The Powers came here. Darren opened the door. Bruce is out there now speaking with them," Tim stated, quickly and fervently right to the point,

"Darren. _Darren_. Remember what I told you to do a few days ago, head between your legs. Just breathe, focus on my voice. We're here for you. They are _not_ going to take you back with them. Remember we have the real will. And we're going to use it to keep you away from them for good," Dick said as calmly as he could. Dick moved as if to try and rub Darren's back but Darren flinched away from him so violently that Dick scooted a few inches away from him, wary of Darren's startled response. Still, Darren did what Dick told him to do. He wrapped his arms around his knees and placed his head between them. Taking one breath, then another…this time focing himself to slow down, to take the air in slowly.

Ever so slightly Darren's shaking stopped, his panic was still there...eating away at him internally but it wasn't as if he were fading in and out from reality. The world rebuilt itself around him, settling into something firm—something grounding, centering. Though the truth of Darren's situation still ate away at any sense of calm he had begun to feel. The Powers now knew Darren was here in Wayne Manor and not with his father. The Court would know of this soon and now they would target the Waynes and everyone they knew and anyone one their side of the custody battle. Darren hadn't considered anyone else they'd bring into the issue…they couldn't defend themselves as Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian can. His breath hitched as he tried to speak,

"I feel sick," was all Darren managed to stutter out, gasping for air once more as everything around him wavered again. Tim stood up and grabbed the nearest bin,

"Here…just in case. But try not to throw up. You'll feel worse if you do, trust me on that," Darren clutched the bin closer to him and hunched over it, grimacing at the taste of bile in the back of his throat,

"Tim. Go grab his monkey off his bed. That might make him feel better," Darren tried not to feel embarrassed by that statement as Tim rushed out of the room. It felt childish to be given a toy to feel better, even if he felt it would bring some semblance of comfort to him. Darren gagged and gripped the bin so tight he thought he'd break it,

"Darren. I know you are scared and worried about everything. But we are going to do everything in our power to keep you here with us. With _me_. You are _my_ family, _not_ theirs and you will stay with me,"

"What if it's not enough," Darren bit out, "This is the Court we're talking about. They'll target you and everyone you care about—" Darren gagged again, the feeling of nausea worsening even as he struggled to stay centered, to _breathe_ ,

"—They'll target the people you hire for the case and their loved ones…this will ruin their lives…possibly end them. It's what they _do!_ Or they'll bribe them or threaten them and then everything would all be for nothing and I'll…I'll…be right back…back— _there_ ," Darren gagged a third time, he couldn't help it. Nothing came up again but he felt like his insides were trying to jump free. Darren was just filled with so much—too much—emotions, feelings...sensations that he couldn't name or consider or focus on. It was all too much, familiarly overwhelming...unbearable,

"We know the risks Dare. And the people we chose for this case know the risks as well. They aren't just any sort of people, they are people known and trusted since before I was ever adopted by Bruce. The Court will not break them nor will they break us and they _won't_ get you back," Darren straightened up at that, loosening his grip on the trash can,

"You already put a team together?" Darren asked, "…Is the will an actual fake? Did you look?"

"We were waiting for you to open the chest. It's your family's so you should open it. We've had this team put together before you even ran away from the Court,"

"Really?" Darren asked shocked, his inner turmoil momentarily forgotten along with his stomach and the bin he'd held so desperately,

"Really," Dick said nodding. His dark blue eyes intense and serious, "They won't let them win,"

"And since they knew the will used was a fake they'll go down for that quicker than anyone escapes from Arkham," Tim stated, handing the monkey to Darren who switched it out with the trash bin. Darren took another deep breath and clunked his head back against the wall closing his eyes,

"Thank you," he said quietly, clutching the monkey close, "I feel better now," though Darren's nerves were still frayed and he felt jumpy...his panic had eased to something more tolerable,

"That's good. I'm sure Bruce is done outside and dinner's ready. I bet you're hungry," Tim stated, trying to find a distracting alternative to the problems Darren raised,

"Also…I think I just made a hole in the wall beneath my head," Darren confessed, his eyes still closed but a small and wary grin still spread across on his face at the unintentional side effect of enhanced strength,

"I guess we should move a photo to cover that hole then," Dick noted with a laugh, "C'mon. Let's eat dinner. Then…then we open up that chest."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter. I did have to do a bit of editing just because my understanding of panic attacks as well as Darren's character has developed since first writing and posting this part of the story. Also my understanding of how to handle or help deal with a panic attack as changed so I edited peoples' (mainly Dick's) reaction a bit. Everyone is different so this isn't exactly a universal way to help someone with panicking nor is one panic attack the same. I hope it all makes sense and reads well.
> 
> As always if you have a question, comment and or concern PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT!


	27. Chapter 27

Bruce closed the front door firmly behind him, trying not to slam it. He didn't want to frighten Darren with the loud noise any more than he already was by the sudden appearance of the Powers. Turning to face the wretched couple Bruce tried not to outrightly glare at them but failed, glowering down at them with dark angry eyes. The two had backed down the steps leading up to the manor, leaving Bruce above them. Lydia stared icily at him, her light blond hair pulled tightly into a bun at the top of her head. Shepard frowned deeply his brown eyes slightly red and narrowed steeply, his suit slightly crumpled from what Bruce doesn't know. He remembered Lydia from when they were all younger. He'd even gone to their wedding. Though Bruce never imagined they'd do half the things they had done, he never thought they would give in to the corruption that manipulated the inner workings of Gotham itself. And to think Bruce himself had been blind to the deeper level of that depraved control the Court of Owls had over Gotham until recently. Everything running under his nose, under _Batman's_ nose. The control, corruption, assassination...kidnapping, torture, abuse...everything spiraling deeper and deeper and yet Bruce knew nothing of it all...until now...until the Night of Owls and until Darren came into their lives,

"You come here and _bark_ at him to come like he's a _dog?"_ Bruce growled darkly, "He is a person. A _boy._ He is only _fifteen_ years old. You and the Court will not influence his life anymore," Lydia only smiled thinly,

"I see he's let everything out. The _weakling_. He was never only a boy," she said smoothly, and Bruce gritted his teeth at the dehumanizing air she had toward Darren, "He was meant to be one of us from the very beginning. It was only a matter of time. The Crownes have always been near and dear to the Court's heart,"

"Only William Cobb's heart…once," Bruce stated, "And he's too far gone to have any real feelings of kinship,"

"Not once. But twice," Lydia corrected, "One bred to be a Talon and one bred to be an Owl. You ruined that you know? By taking the first one in. The Court was ready to pounce but you butted your nose in and took him away and we had to make do with what we got,"

"I saved him _from_ you," Bruce snapped, "I may not have known about the Court then but now that I do, I will do everything in my power to take the Court _down,"_

"An empty promise I'm sure," Lydia replied drolly, "And you only saved the one. Do you think that won't be abundantly clear to the boy? He does know you swooped in to save little Richard from the Child Protective Services before William stepped in right?" Bruce was silent, "Or does he only know you eventually adopted Richard? Does he not know that his only chance for a normal, _happy_ life was robbed by _you?"_

"That doesn't matter. I didn't know about any of that, I didn't even know about _him_. He was born a year after the Circus accident and there was no reason to suspect any connection between the two families. I couldn't have done anything. But If I had known about him, I would have done anything in my power to keep him from you. You will not be taking Darren with you tonight or any other night," Bruce declared. Lydia raised a pale eyebrow, a smirk gracing her features,

"We are his legal guardians. You cannot keep him there forever, that can be declared as kidnapping,"

"I can keep him far away from you and I will," Bruce replied, pulling out a packet of papers and tossing them at her feet, "I will see you down in City Hall on Thursday. There will be a reading of the will and a testing on its…accuracy," Lydia scowled at the paper as Shepard bent to pick it up,

"You cannot claim custody. We are the intended guardians," Shepard said,

"Allegedly," Bruce stated simply, "And I am not claiming custody—,"

"— _Richard_ is?" Lydia screeched, snatching the paper from her husband. It was clear she was the head and Shepard the hands in their dynamic, "He is barely a blood relative. It would never work, they won't allow—,"

"—I'm sure they'll allow it," Bruce said dryly, "Afterall as you said a Crowne stole William's heart not once, but twice. A blood relative has more of a right than you and ultimately it is up to the child where he or she wants to live. Perhaps if you had considered this sooner and changed your behavior towards him, you wouldn't be at risk of losing custody of Darren…and losing the Court's faith in you in the process," Lydia paled and Shepard looked nervous, they shared a glance communicating something Bruce couldn't deduce nor did he care to try,

"We only did what they told us to," Shepard stated, as if that were an excuse... too many have said such thing and borne too much atrocity in the world because of it,

"At what cost?" Bruce asked disgusted by them, "Did you even consider your own children in all of this?" Lydia's face crumpled and for a second Bruce thought he'd actually pushed them too hard but then she schooled her features into a cold mask,

"If it's a custody battle Richard wants. Then that's what he'll get," she declared,

"Don't think for a moment he's doing this on his own,"

"The Powers have been in Gotham as long as the Waynes have. We have equal influence over its people,"

"For now," Bruce agreed, "Until this case is over, get off my property. Don't ever let me see you again. Or it will be through a set of bars in a prison cell," Lydia sighed,

"Very well Mr. Wayne. It seems we are unwelcome Shep. Let's go home and plan for the future," she stated, before glancing back, "You'll regret this," she hissed at Bruce as they started back to their waiting car. Bruce watched them go until they were a speck on the end of the driveway. Perhaps revealing to them that Dick was the one claiming custody had been a bad choice, but the Powers, and by extension the Court, didn't know they had the real will. A hopefully very different will. Bruce was confident they'd win. They _had_ to.

* * *

Darren sat in the living room, vacant of a coffee table because of him breaking it yesterday, his legs stretched out in a straddle the chest from William's room on the floor in front of him. Dick sat to his left, Tim on the arm of the couch with Bruce standing in front of the fireplace and Damian leaning against the archway leading to the hallway. It was very quiet, so quiet he could hear all their hearts pounding in near-perfect sync,

"Whenever you're ready Darren," Dick said, "You'll have to try and pick the lock but we can—," Darren grabbed the locking mechanism on the chest and yanked it off. Tossing it onto the couch cushion next to Tim,

"—or you can just yank it off," Tim stated shrugging. With a deep breath, Darren pushed back the lid and peered inside. What he saw at first both confused him and made him surprisingly happy,

"Why did he keep all of these—oh," he cut himself off as he lifted two of the stuffed animals he had snuck with him into Harbor House—a monkey and a hippo—both their heads fell off, their stuffing falling onto the ground,

"He's deplorable," Dick said, clearly disgusted by the beheaded toys. There was no need to ask who the _'he'_ was. Darren picked up the head of the monkey, feeling a sadness he didn't think he would feel for the toys he'd lost ten years ago, "We can fix them if you want," Dick's offer was kind, but Darren didn't see the point...he felt eons beyond comfort from soft fluffy toys,

"Why bother," Darren stated mutely, "it's fine…besides. I have a new monkey," with a slightly heavy heart he put the toys off to the side and reached into the chest again. This time he pulled out various photographs. One was of his grandfather. He'd never met the old man, but he'd hazily remembered walking by family portraits in Crowne Manor when he was little and seeing a friendly, if not pudgy, looking face with an arm around his grandmother who had passed away years before Darren had been born and a hand on his mother's shoulder. Amanda, his mother, had been an only child. Though with the Crownes' track record who is to say there aren't any other illegitimate children out there in the world. The other was of him, the day he'd been born wrapped in a white knitted blanket that Darren didn't remember nor did he ever remember having beyond that day,

"My mom made that blanket…at least I'm sure it was her. I don't remember her knitting anything else later on, she wasn't exactly an artistic person. But it had to be her who made it," Darren squinted at the photo as if it would reveal the answer, perhaps he wanted that to be something of his mother, but he couldn't reach back far enough to remember...or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Despite the memories Darren did have, he never truly knew his mother,

"It could be store-bought," Dick replied shrugging as he reached for the picture, "Oh my God you were the cutest baby ever. This is going on a shelf somewhere—,"

"—No. It's _not_ ," Darren growled, flushing in embarrassment and reaching for the photo,

"Nope. It is," Dick declared, shoving it under his butt and grinning devilishly at him. Darren glared at his cousin but ignored him, he'd have to stand up eventually. The last photo was of his mother, and it hurt to look at it. She looked so young, her strawberry blond hair—a somewhat similar feature to his dirty blonde hair, and one of the few features that tied them together—long and free lifted up by an invisible breeze. Her eyes bright green and a smile so vibrant Darren's heart ached at seeing it. She was the one who had been there for him—who did her best despite being a single mother, an heiress, and targeted by the Court—his father had never been in the picture then and Amanda had been fine with that. It made Darren question the so-called 'love' between his mom and dad but not her love for him. Darren never questioned that,

"Why are these photos in there?" Dick asked softly as Darren traced her face with a finger,

"To torture me," Darren stated, "he knew I'd eventually open the chest, he wanted this there just for that,"

"He couldn't have possibly known you'd eventually open the box," Damian retorted, "No one has that kind of foresight," Darren shrugged,

"Maybe, maybe not, either way…this is painful…bittersweet, and painful,"

"We could just search the box instead if you want," Dick offered, a small concerned frown shadowing the light-hearted grin from before,

"No, it's okay. This…this I can handle," Darren replied, his mind was a jumbled mess, memories twisted and shadowed...pulled deep into the corners of his mind and overwhelmed by the ten years he endured with the Court, in the Nest, with William, and with the Powers. Pleasant memories, memories of his mother and his past at Crowne Manor...were rare and far between the darkness anchored in Darren's psyche...but memory was also a very strong and powerful thing all the same, "She…she used to call me 'monkey'. That's why I had the toy monkey, I just...that memory just...bloomed to the surface...I just... _remembered_. I used to climb up the outside of the stairs railings and try to hang on the curtain holders," Dick let out a laugh at that,

"I climbed everything when I first came to the manor. I guess it's a family thing," Darren squirmed as Dick ruffled his hair, reveling in the feeling, the shock of almost giddiness at the light, calming and simultaneously unfamiliar touch, even as he pulled away from it,

"Yeah…I guess it is," Darren replied unable to hide the small uncertain yet unwavering grin that crossed his face. He tried to hide it, turning his head but Dick saw and mirrored the small smile with a grand one of his own. Darren pushed the smile from his face, refocusing on the chest, and grabbed the next thing out of the box. It was a stack of envelopes and postcards,

"What are these?" Darren muttered. They were wrapped with a rubber band. It was a nice thick stack. Pulling a postcard out he saw a neat and elegant script written in black ink on the side for writing letters. Darren squinted—script was one of the most difficult fonts for Darren to read—and he managed to make out one word: 'Aaron' and, as he thumbed through the rest of the stack, in the later letters 'Slade', "These are my mom's letters!" Darren exclaimed, pulling off the rubber band completely and riffling through them. They were dated and they were written month by month. Darren desperately wanted to read them right away but there were more important matters to address first. He yet again rifled through the chest and finally pulled out a large manila folder from the bottom. Darren pulled the packet of papers out and there it was. The will. Finally, after all this time of waiting and wondering, the actual last will and testament of Darren's mother, Amanda Crowne, was in his hands. Wordlessly Darren passed it to Tim who started reading it, his light blue eyes darting across the pages almost hungrily searching for what they needed to set everything right,

"You don't want to read it yourself?" Dick asked, confused,

"He's a faster reader," Darren stated flatly,

"But—,"

"—Dick don't push it," surprisingly Bruce stated, "What does it say, Tim?"

"The Powers weren't supposed to take Darren in," Tim said, shock in his voice, wide-eyed, " _My_ family was,"

 _"What?"_ Darren gasped, scampering to his feet to sit on the couch next to Tim, looking over at the will, needing to see the evidence for himself. There in incredibly formal writing were the names of Tim's parents,

"I don't know why they'd be your guardians specifically…I don't really know if they knew your mom," Tim stated,

"If only things had turned out differently…we'd have been—,"

"—brothers," Tim finished,

"Great, newfound friendship. That's amazing, what else did the will say? Anything about blood relative custody or whatnot? Do we have a copy of the fake will to compare it with?" Damian snapped, clearly annoyed by the commodity of newfound truths and strengthened friendships,

"Well we don't have the other will, but we can compare it on Thursday. William probably knows we—or at least _someone_ —took the chest and I don't know what he is going to do about that but so far I'd say we have the upper hand regarding the whole custody battle. We've had time to prepare for it. The Court on the other hand and the Powers haven't had that time, they've been too focused on taking Darren back by force. As for the specific wording of the will, it says my parents would assume guardianship if no living relatives make themselves known," Tim stated,

"That's a problem," Bruce muttered,

"Why?" Dick asked, "I can totally claim guardianship, problem solved," he held his hand up for a high five which Darren heartily returned, eager for the change in guardianship to commence,

"Problem not solved, _any living relative_. That includes not only Slade and your brothers Darren, but also William," Bruce stated darkly, a frown flickering across his stoic face. Darren shrunk back at that, unable to hide the gasp that pushed itself free from his throat or his shaking hands at the prospect of being legally claimed by William,

"Oh…problem worsened," Dick muttered, his own expression wavering...uncertainty and perhaps even a touch of fear pushing any relief deep deep down,

"Though ultimately it is Darren's decision. They will ask who you want to live with. We'll bring this will to the briefing on Thursday and hopefully they take the case,"

"They probably will. We already filled out and submitted the petition form…we have a head start on the Powers as you said," Tim stated, "I just can't believe that my parents would have been your guardians,"

"It would have made getting you here easier for sure," Damian said dryly, unbothered by referencing the untimely demise of Tim's own parents,

"Thanks for the reminder," Tim snapped. Darren mused over that statement. If he had lived with the Drakes, grown up with them as his surrogate parents, he wondered how he would take losing a parent twice. After joining a new family, creating relationships with that new family... _becoming_ a family...could Darren bear going through that loss twice? His thoughts also turned to how they would react to Slade being his father. Probably better than Dick had, they did not have the history with Deathstroke that his cousin did. But Darren couldn't think like that, that's not how it happened, he couldn't think of 'what ifs' only of what is and what will be...living and growing up with the Drakes was just a mere fantasy, like the stories Darren told himself on dark and lonely nights in the Nest.

With a shaky breath, Darren shook himself, clearing all thoughts of the Drakes, the Powers, William, and the Nest,

"I just really hope this all works out," Darren muttered, unable to ignore the sensation of near melancholic dread at the prospective legal battle the Bats were about to face on his behalf, and unable to deny the catastrophically negative impact losing such a battle would have. Darren wouldn't survive that, and that realization was like a knife in his chest...but Darren pushed that away he didn't want the others to see him waver, to see that hopeless side of himself. Darren wanted to believe this would work, but he needed to face the reality that it might not...he couldn't hope for too much, Darren couldn't think of a hopeful outcome, not when his life had been anything but that,

"I'm sure it will," Dick said, "We'll make sure it does." Dick sounded so sure and Darren almost believed him... _almost_. That said the Bats convened to discuss more plans as Darren silently backed out of the room, escaping quietly upstairs to collapse into bed with the letters from the box held close to his chest. Tired not only from the surprise visit of the Powers but from the surprises he found in the box and the will...though all the same equally awake and ready to learn more about the mother he barely got to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked this chapter PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT if you have any questions, comments or concerns or just want to for the sake of commenting, I'd love to hear your thoughts. I added a bit to this chapter because when I first wrote it I wasn't as good at combining dialogue with action as I was now. I also didn't delve deeply into the thoughts and feelings of characters at the moment or their reactions as I am presently. So I hope the updates work smoothly with the chapter and story in general!


	28. Chapter 28

Dick clambered up the stairs and turned towards Darren's room a mug of hot chocolate in his hand. He'd seen Darren slip out of the living room while they were still discussing the upcoming custody battle. Dick didn't blame him, it was never fun dealing with the justice system but they had to do it. He knocked lightly on the door and heard no reply. Frowning Dick lightly pushed on the door and it creaked open slightly,

"Dare, I have some hot—," he cut himself off when he saw Darren fast asleep on top of the covers with the light still on, the postcards they had found in the chest scattered around him on the bed. Now that was impressive if he managed to sleep with any lights on. With Darren, it had to be darker than a crypt to sleep. With a chuckle Dick set the drink on the nightstand and tried to wake Darren up, he was still in his clothes,

"Don't bother," a voice said behind him, it was Bruce, "Let him sleep. It's been a long few hours for him,"

"I'll at least take his shoes off," Dick stated, slowly and gently turning Darren onto his back. He didn't even wake up a little bit, "He's out like a light," he mumbled,

"He's a growing boy, it might just be a growth spurt," Bruce stated, a slight smirk in his voice,

"Wow, your parental knowledge is limitless," Dick retorted as he tossed the sneakers onto the floor, "He needs to get his own clothes. I don't think he likes wearing hand-me-downs,"

"That can be arranged later," Bruce said from the doorway as Dick collected all the postcards, placed them on the nightstand, shifted Darren beneath the covers, and finally pulled them up to his chin. He then grabbed the hot chocolate and turned out the light,

"I didn't mean right this minute," he replied taking a huge sip from the still-steaming mug,

"I know," Bruce stated, taking the mug away from him, "Don't drink so much warm milk, you still need to be awake for patrol,"

"But I can't let it go to waste. It has chocolate in it, that's sugar…basically energy," Dick whined jokingly, reaching for the mug, which Bruce maneuvered away from him and placed on an antique table in the hall,

"You can have it when you get back. Tim and Damian will be out with us for a few hours tonight. They got all their homework done," Bruce led the way downstairs, toward his office and the entrance to the cave,

"Great. Hours of arguing. I'm patrolling with Babs tonight, I don't want to deal with them when they're at each others throats," Bruce rolled his eyes, as he opened the clock,

"Leaving me with the problem children are you?"

"I feel that Jason is more of the problem child in our family," Dick acknowledged, taking the long stone staircase two steps at a time, eager to begin patrol,

"He's not around here right now so I'd say it's Damian and Tim,"

"Only when they're arguing," Dick called as Bruce set up the computers so Alfred could run communication for them while in the field. Dick grabbed a domino mask and headed to the changing rooms. Business as usual.

* * *

Darren woke to a hand covering his mouth. In a moment of panic, his mind flashing to Talons and Owls glaring down at him, he acted on impulse. Grabbing the person's wrist, flipping them over so that Darren had his arm to their throat and his other arm raised to strike, the force of adrenaline coursing through him...prepared for the worst,

"Dad?" Darren breathed, releasing a heavy breath, the panic he felt slipping away,

"Great reflexes," Slade stated gruffly, his voice constricted by the heavy arm across his throat,

"What are you doing here?" Darren hissed, still not moving...feeling almost hesitant to move at all,

"I said I would come back didn't I," was the reply he got, "Are you going to let me up?" Darren pulled back his arm and sat back on the bed as his father stood upright once more,

"What are you doing in here?"

"You weren't coming to the door so I let myself in. It wasn't that difficult. You'd think they'd invest more into their locks,"

"I didn't hear anything," Darren muttered, which was odd,

"You were having a nightmare it seems. You were screaming,"

"So you thought the best way to wake me up was to cover my mouth?" Darren questioned, raising an eyebrow. Slade shrugged,

"It worked didn't it,"

"Where are Grant and Joseph?" Darren asked. He'd been wanting to see them for a while now. Slade never mentioned them the last time he'd come for a visit. He only said that Grant hacked the security system,

"They have jobs to do," Slade replied vaguely,

"What sort of jobs?" Darren asked, trying not to feel too vexed that they would choose work over visiting him, "I know you're a mercenary, but I don't exactly know what they do,"

"Have you asked your cousin? He knew them for a while long ago,"

"Really?" Darren replied, surprised. He didn't know that. Dick never mentioned it. To be honest, though, Dick never talks about Darren's father or brothers,

"What about Rose?" Darren asked, "Where is she. Does she know I exist? How old is she? And don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. I _know_ I have a half-sister," Slade was silent for a moment. He wasn't wearing his mask so Darren saw the flash of irritation in his gaze, but when he spoke there wasn't a bite to his words,

"I do not know where she is. She and I had a falling out. Those are questions best saved for them. They know the reason it all happened,"

"You make it sound like it was their fault," Darren muttered, unsure of how to feel by Slade's constant redirection...it felt too calculated to be genuine or brought on by regretful events,

"Perhaps it was," Slade stated. Now it was Darren's turn to feel irritated. Never any straight answers from Slade. Before his father seemed content to let Darren be angry and to use that anger on others and now he seemed eager to have him ask difficult questions to the people who are trying to help him. Darren got the impression Slade wanted him to turn on the Bats as if the whole falling out was a scandalous and terrible thing. Perhaps Darren already knew who was _really_ responsible for any falling out within their family, but just didn't want to face that truth. Maybe if he found Grant and Joseph they'd give him answers.

Instead of pressing the matter—not wanting to exacerbate the situation or their meeting— Darren instead reached for the stack of postcards and letters from his mother. He'd left the living room last night to try and get through them. He fell asleep before getting very far,

"My mother thought your name was Aaron when she first met you. How did she discover your name was Slade?" His father didn't exactly react explicitly to the question, but he did reach for the postcard and scanned it over,

"We never really corresponded much. The postcards were ours—well her's—she wrote, I called using a burner phone. That was harder to track than a paper trail. I returned the postcards after I read them to give the impression that the address was wrong for anyone who noticed she sent them in the first place. The sealed letters I do not know. I think those are for you. She was very intuitive, your mother, it was like she was in your head without really trying. Maybe she knew something was off after we first met, I nearly botched up my hit that night, and she kept trying to guess my backstory,"

"She was always good at telling stories," Darren agreed. Sometimes, back when he was in the Nest, as he was trying to fall asleep he would think to when he was little and he could almost hear a soft melodic voice murmuring to him stories of kings and heroes and knights all made up off the top of her head,

"And I did mention that she was good with a computer. A few tricks and she knew…and yet she did not stay away," how his father said it made it clear that it was a surprise to him that anyone would stay after learning the truth about him. He may have been married once, but that woman believed him to be a monster because of what he did. Amanda clearly didn't see that…or she didn't want to. Darren itched to look through the letters that were supposedly for him. He wanted to know what she said and thought. Whether she was happy when she had Darren, what her father thought of him and his father thought...or at least what Slade knew. Darren wished he could learn everything but it wasn't meant to be. There were only fourteen letters and they didn't seem that thick and there were limits when writing by hand,

"Now for the real reason I came," Slade stated, pulling a pair of dual blades from sheaths slung over his shoulders, "What do you think of these?" Darren couldn't help but grin, grabbing the blades and examining them in the moonlight. Sure Darren hadn't been allowed to do anything remotely athletic since he'd woken in the Manor, but Darren wanted to change that. And maybe that activity wouldn't include these weapons Slade gave him but they were still gifts given to him by his father. And they were fine blades,

"I love them," Darren stated,

"Would you want to practice with me sometime? They won't let you use these weapons at all,"

"Maybe…I'll let you know," Darren replied. He wanted the time with his father. He really did, but Darren didn't want to lose any aspect of himself—his new lifestyle—with the Bats. Sure he was technically using Slade's suggestion as a safety net in case they refused to let him train or do anything athletic but it was necessary. His father wasn't being completely honest with him and Slade's continued insistence that they train together was starting to rub Darren the wrong way. He felt like a child being goaded into a van with shiny pointy pieces of chocolate,

"Aren't you _bored_ here? I can see it on your face. You aren't doing anything you find fun or amusing. In fact, you're probably not doing _anything_ at all. _I_ can change that," Darren pursed his lips,

"Things are still very new to me here. I do want to train with you…but not right now. As I said before, the Court is still out there and eventually, maybe, they'll forget about me or I'll make a deal with them to lay off but until then I'm stuck,"

"You are very stubborn, you know that?" Slade asked, there wasn't anger in his voice. Just silent amusement and perhaps slight fondness "Just like her," Darren smiled,

"T-thank you," he stated, swallowing as his voice cracked. Footsteps could be heard from down the hall and before either Slade or Darren could do anything the door was flung open,

"Darren the security grid is down… _Slade!"_ Dick snarled marching into the room, anger plastered on his face, "I should have known it was you," Darren got up from his bed and moved between Dick and his father,

"Dick. I know I should have—,"

"—Leave. You can't be here,"

"I _can_ be here. Darren didn't tell me to leave. He wanted me to visit," Slade state icily,

"We had a deal,"

"Yes. Darren would recover here and I couldn't be present, but _afterward_ , if he wanted to see me he could. And you wouldn't let him do anything so _I_ took the initiative,"

"Wait, you made a deal regarding my recovery?" Darren cut in, but he was overshadowed by Dick,

"So you snuck in here? _That_ was a visit?"

"Oh I'm sorry, did I have to ask permission to see my own son!"

"You do when your reluctancy to accept responsibility ten years ago led to him being as wounded as he was!" Dick snarled,

"Is that going to be your only excuse for me not to—," Slade started to shout, the anger and venom in their tones turned their arguing into senseless shouting...their voices echoing throughout the floor causing others to flock to the source of disruption. Tim and Damian both tired and glaring appeared at the door their irritation evident. Slade and Dick were making a scene, Darren decided it was time to intervene,

"—Dad, just go. I'll talk to you later," it was a promise Darren told himself. Dick cannot just cut his own father out of his life. Sure he has every reason to hate the man and to not want Darren near him—even if most of those reasons were never fully explained—,but just the same whether or not Slade was in Darren's life was up to him and only him. Dick was not his parent or his guardian—not yet at least—he was Darren's cousin and he'd still be after the custody situation was over. He didn't have the right to command Darren to ignore his father. Not when Darren, as with Dick had only just learned who he was to him personally. Slade abruptly stopped his shouting, nodding in agreement his eyes seeming to hold Darren's gaze as if considering the conviction in his words before throwing one last glare at Dick. Slades left the room and leapt off the balcony without a backward glance,

"What the hell Darren! Why did you—," Dick started, turning to face Darren, the picture of irritation or concern or even fear evident on his face. Darren didn't care, his own anger surging to the surface,

"Why did I _what?"_ Darren snapped, "Why did I have a perfectly normal conversation with my father? Why did I not tell you? Because I knew you would react like this! You don't get to say who I can and can't talk to. I have a whole family out there and yes you are a part of it too but so are _they_ and I know nothing about them just like I know— _knew_ —nothing about you. I should get the chance to know them!

"You act like he is the worst person in the world because of what he does! And yet you don't see the only difference between him and you is that you refuse to kill people and that is _okay_ , that is _your_ choice! My dad made his! And I will make _mine!_

"You think that you can just stuff me in this house and this room and think that I can conform to a normal life but _I can't._ I can't because I have a _mother_ who was an heiress and a target of the Court—who was just waiting for the next Crowne to be born—, a _father_ who is a mercenary as well as wanted for murder in most countries and a _cousin_ —," Darren stopped in his tirade to jab Dick hard in the chest with his finger, "Who swings around the city at night saving people's lives with a mask over his face. I am _bored!_ I don't want to just sit around all day waiting for all of you to get home! I don't want to just take up mundane hobbies like every other kid in this world does! I wasn't meant for a normal life and I'm surrounded by people who don't _lead_ a normal life," silence rung like a bell in the room, Dick's expression morphed into one of shock at Darren's outburst,

"So _yes_. I was talking to my dad, because he was the only one who _saw_ that," Darren stated much more calmly now, gesturing to the dual blades still laying on his bed,

"I…I guess we figured eventually you would want to do something—more," Dick finished lamely. Probably surprised at Darren's acceptance of Slade's gift or perhaps that Slade saw something he did not consider.

It took so long for Darren to say everything he'd been wanting to. He'd been too entrapped by the fear of everything being taken away along with his sense of self through expressing what he really wanted...but now, it felt good to let everything out. Darren felt relief in stating the truth he'd so wanted to relay for so long. Sure Slade being tossed out of the room by Dick to make everything boil over but it was true. Darren _was_ bored, he did want to do something like he had used to. Of course with nothing extraneous…if that were possible. Maybe just some exercise: running…gymnastics…acrobatics…good old fashioned knife throwing… _something_ … _anything_. Doing such things didn't automatically lead to vigilantism like Dick feared it would. And by preventing Darren from experiencing any aspect of his nightlife as a vigilante, Dick was keeping Darren from making an educated choice regarding that lifestyle and overall Darren's future in general,

"We felt you'd want to have a more human first experience with the real world," Tim stated, speaking up for the first time,

"You say that like I'm not human," Darren stated, sending a glare at Tim. So what if he was a Talon, it doesn't make him any less than who he was before,

"Well, I guess I meant more humane," Tim amended, looking wary. It was clear his intent hadn't been to offend, though the comment still stung in a way Darren wasn't used to,

"True," Darren muttered, "But you live a double life and I'm only seeing half of it,"

"Let's talk about this in the morning…when we're less irritated and groggy," Dick stated. Tim nodded in agreement and left the room. Damian had left when the yelling started and Bruce appeared to not have been woken up at all, "Darren," Dick began,

"Yes?" he asked, yawning, the adrenaline and excitement from Slade's visit was gone only exhaustion remained, 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry you felt that way. I didn't realize…I thought this was what you wanted, but I think it's really what I wanted _for_ you. You weren't supposed to be the Talon, _I_ was. My fortune became your misfortune and I guess I felt I could never make it up to you so I decided to cut out anything even remotely close to what they do, to what you were supposed to eventually do. We're not assassins, but what we do is similar only we protect others and do so without killing. Which is why we never included you…I wanted it to be your choice whether you got involved and I guess I refused to believe you were anything but happy to be doing relatively normal things,"

"I was happy," Darren stated, "I am happy here. Happier than I've ever really been…even with all the bad of the past and possibly the future…but there's a difference between living happily and living a happy lie. I know what you do, and even if the Drakes had taken me in and none of the Court shit happened, I would be right where Tim is. I'd be here...I'd always be here in some way, some form. You and I both know that." Dick didn't frown exactly, he grimaced. He knew Darren was right. And Darren understood that Dick wanted to protect him but there are some things that you couldn't be protected from. No matter how hard others tried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter! I did do a little bit of editing here and there, mostly with changing a lot of 'he' I've found scattered around where names should be used. If you don't use someone's name at some point, people forget who is who and who is talking, etc. I didn't know or understood that when I first started really writing. I also fixed some transitional sentences and dialogue + action phrases. Hopefully, it reads smoother. 
> 
> PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT. I'd really like to know that people are getting something from this story and that they are enjoying the journey Darren is on. As well as where you think this story is going to go.


	29. Chapter 29

Dick decided to take a day off work the next morning. It was Wednesday. Thursday Darren, Bruce, and himself were going to City Hall along with the Powers for the reading of the will. So technically he'd be taking two days off but his work was pretty flexible. They'd bring the real copy and bring that aspect to light and into the court case. The Powers would have a tough time explaining their ignorance of that small but very important detail, as well as the original man—the person the Court hired—who read the fake will that made Darren the Powers's ward. He hoped things would go smoothly. He walked into the living room, hoping to find Darren when his phone went off, looking at the caller ID he saw it was Barbara. With a smile, he put the phone to his ear,

"Yes?" he asked, giving the phrase a slight playful drawl,

 _"A little bird told me you're skipping out on work today,"_ she said from the other end, _"naughty naughty Boy Wonder,"_

"Well, I figured I'd spend some time with my cousin today instead,"

_"Ah, and here I thought you did it all for me. Woe to all, I'll be in my closet crying,"_

"Don't be jealous," Dick replied slightly, a smirk on his face. He knew Barbara didn't really care, she was just calling to make sure he was alright. She had left patrol before him because of some work thing early in the morning and didn't get the lowdown on any patrol injuries from later in the night,

 _"So why the sudden cancellation?"_ She asked. Barbara wasn't prying, she was just genuinely curious. She hadn't met Darren yet and only heard about him in passing. Knowing Babs she'd done her research the moment Dick mentioned Darren Crowne to her and knew everything she possibly could about him already, but that wasn't the same thing. She'd meet him sooner rather than later as it was though. Thanksgiving was around the corner…in fact, it was next week. Dick had a feeling it would be Darren's first true Thanksgiving ever and that, of course, meant they had to go all out, well after they explained the holiday to him,

"Believe it or not we had an argument and Darren won,"

 _"An argument?"_ Barbara asked, surprise in her voice. Dick could almost imagine her sitting at her desk, glasses on the desk next to her, nearby and ready for use should the need arise. She'd gnaw on the ends of them while thinking something through, it was an old habit that was effective for problem-solving at least in her perspective—a mug of coffee still hot next to her with her bright red hair pulled up into a bun a few strands curling around her face; her green eyes wide at his statement, _"What was it about?"_

"Boredom," Dick stated, "Slade visited," he tried to keep the disdain out of his voice but couldn't really,

 _"Oh really?"_ she stated, a frown in her voice. Barbara also knew of the turbulent history Dick had with Darren's father,

"Apparently that visit wasn't the only one. I sent him away and Darren got mad,"

_"Uh-oh. Like I'm mad but not super mad or stabby stabby mad?"_

"The first one," Dick answered, rolling his eyes, "Darren's not that violent,"

 _"He's an assassin, Dick,"_ she pointed out, _"With enhanced strength,"_

"I know that,"

_"I know you do. Go on,"_

"He said he was bored and that Slade was the only one to see that…he had some pretty valid points and I think I should let him come down into the cave,"

 _"I think that's a fine idea. I was the one who thought we should have done that a while ago,"_ Barbara stated, a small undertone of 'I told you so,' tied in with the phrase,

"But I don't exactly know what to do once we're there. We can't spar, he doesn't really have control of his strength or speed. He's broken so many things in the manor and Alfred keeps being nice about it but I swear his eye twitched when he broke off part of the chair's arm he was sitting in," she let out a laugh before answering,

_"Then don't spar. You have something in common that I don't think either of you realize,"_

"And what's that?"

_"You're related, therefore isn't there one specific thing you are both good at?"_

"Charming the ladies?" Dick asked feigning ignorance,

_"No Dickhead, acrobatics, gymnastics, trapeze…anything athletic that involves lots of movement. Start with that. It will be fun. You can teach him new things, you can make him have fun with it,"_

"You have a point,"

 _"I always do,"_ was her reply and Dick couldn't help but smile again, _"Now go spend time with your cousin. Are we on for Saturday?"_

"Of course we are Babs," Dick said as Darren entered the living room scowling at a book in his hands, "I got to go. Bye, love you," with that he shoved the phone back in his pocket,

"Darren," he stated. His cousin stopped in his movement and glanced up at him,

"Yeah?" he asked, not impolitely just distractedly,

"What do you have there?"

"A coding book," he stated, frowning, "Tim's trying to teach me,"

"I thought you didn't want to learn mundane hobbies," Dick stated. Darren sighed, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling in exasperation,

"Tim made the point that if I were to quote, unquote be like you guys. I'd have to live a civilian life as well. And normal people don't really have knife throwing as their main hobby," he paused and looked back at Dick, his eyes widening, "Those were his exact words. The quote, unquote too," he stated incredulously. Dick let out a chuckle,

"I didn't know you said the quotes," Darren continued,

"Well you don't have to all the time," Dick stated, "It's usually implied,"

"Then why did he do it that time?"

"He was probably trying to be humorous,"

"…what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Darren phrased the question cautiously, uncertain as to Dick's motives. With effort, Dick tried not to feel hurt but such suspicion, he knew Darren was not used to such positive attention,

"Well I was but I thought over what you said and I agree with you. You weren't meant for a normal life, I don't live a normal life and you should live your own life without other people telling you what to do. But you do need some guidance and I'm here for that,"

"Okay…what do you suggest?"

"Training…but we start off slow. Our job is to defend people who can't do it themselves…it's to help people and you were trained to be an assassin,"

"The exact opposite," Darren stated sullenly,

"That wasn't your fault. That was just your upbringing,"

"I understand that," Darren muttered, letting out a slight breath of air as if exasperated. With himself or the situation, Dick couldn't tell, "What do you mean by start off slow?"

"I mean we won't start with sparring…we'll start with trying to find ways for you to learn to control your strength and speed. And maybe that will eventually lead to sparring being what helps you control that. We'll just have to use robots instead of actual people…to be fair we could just start with that but I thought we should have some fun instead,"

"What kind of fun?" Darren asked tilting his head in question,

"Come with me," Dick said grinning widely as he led the way down the back hallway to Bruce's office and into the cave. Bats screeched loudly up above and at first Darren winced at the noise but eventually adapted to it. Dick led him into the back of the cavern where the training equipment and room were. There were weights, weight machines, and running machines but also a gymnastics set up along with a trapeze way in the back where the cave's ceiling was high enough for it. Dick surveyed the area with a wide, proud smile. Glancing over at Darren to see what he thought of it. His cousin eyed all the equipment with a small hesitant grin on his face. Darren stood taking it all in and Dick could see by how he shifted from foot to foot that he really wanted to get going and _do_ something. A part of Dick was annoyed at himself for not seeing Darren's boredom sooner, another part of him felt guilty that he had kept Darren cooped up in that room and the manor for so long. Darren was like him, well _them—_ all the Bats—really, he couldn't just sit idly around waiting for something to happen. Hopefully messing around on the equipment would make him feel better,

"What are you waiting for?" Dick asked, gesturing to the underground gym.

They spent hours down there. Dick didn't have his watch or phone with him so it could have been almost time for patrol for all he knew, but he and Darren spent hours on the gymnastics equipment, the weights, and everything. Everything except actual sparring. At first, Darren showed him some of the warmups and workouts the Court had him do. One of which seemed so incredibly impossible that Dick cringed every time Darren did a set. It was on the high bar of the gymnastics equipment. Darren pulled himself forward up into a handstand and do three handstand push-ups and fell backward to do three pull-ups before—with a few swings as well to help with momentum—pulling himself backward once again into another handstand to do three handstand push-ups, he then fell forward and did three pull-ups and that counted as one rep,

"How many of those did they make you do?" Dick dared asked when Darren was done showing him the workout. Darren wrung out his hands and shrugged,

"Depended on the day and the trainer. Sometimes just ten, other times one hundred,"

"Of _that?"_ Dick asked incredulously,

"Yeah," He replied casually before moving to the rings. Dick grinned and jumped up to show Darren a few tricks and then let him try them. It continued like that for a while. They went from rings to pommel horse, to balance beam, to the tightrope—put in at Dick's insistence—to the tumble track. They even tested to see how much Darren could lift with his newfound enhanced strength. After they messed around on pretty much all of the equipment he and Darren slumped onto one of the benches gulping down as much water as they could without choking. Utterly content and tired,

"That was the most fun I had in days," Darren said finally. Taking a big deep breath with a grin on his face...still small and not fully expressive but it was there and Dick would take that, it showed his cousin felt something positive—that he at least felt somewhat happy about his situation,

"That was fun," Dick agreed, "Maybe next time we could play tag on the equipment,"

"You can do that?"

"Only if Bruce doesn't catch us. He hates it when we do that," Dick replied, "Tim and I used to do it with Barbs and Steph,"

"Who're they?" Darren asked, tilting his head to the side in confusion,

"Oh they're…er…well, Barbara, is my girlfriend and Steph is Tim's girlfriend…sort of…I think they are. They had some issues for a while but as of now, everything points towards them being a couple. They're also family friends I guess you can say,"

"Oh,"

"Yeah. They also help us on patrol at night. Barbara is Batgirl and Steph is Spoiler,"

"That's cool," Darren said, "Will I ever get to meet these 'girlfriends?'" for some reason the way Darren said that made him slightly nervous. Like Darren was slightly suspicious of them for some reason…or Darren was teasing Dick and he just didn't see that. He chose to believe the latter,

"They're coming on Thanksgiving, which is next week, so is Barbara's dad. He's the Commissioner but he doesn't know about all this," Dick stated indicating the Batcave. Darren nodded very solemnly before speaking, saying what Dick expected but still felt a twist in his chest at hearing,

"I...I don't really remember Thanksgiving, or what it was...," Dick refrained from sighing as he quickly described Thanksgiving in detail,

"So it's a big feast?" Darren asked when he was done, "I mean I knew about the history of all that, but I didn't know they turned it into a holiday,"

"Yeah, it's a time to reflect and say what you are thankful for and there is a lot of negative connotations with the holiday too especially nowadays but it's mostly a time to be with family. It can be fun too. Alfred makes a whole bunch of desserts for that night and it's great,"

"It sounds delicious," Darren agreed, a small smile on his face as he stood and started meandering around the cave. He examined various devices on the workbenches and started over to the glass cases with old costumes of the past inside. Darren passed by Dick's old Robin suit, then Jason's—though that was separate from the other suits in their glass cases and Dick was uncertain as to whether Darren knew about Jason at all. Dick watched silently as Darren passed by Tim's old suit and then gazed up at Dick's old batsuit from the year he'd been Batman before moving on to the red suit that mirrored Dick's blue Nightwing suit,

"What was the red one for?" Darren asked. Dick frowned before walking over,

"It was from when I was Renegade," he said, dark memories surfacing despite the lightness—and innocence—in the question,

"When were you that?" Darren asked, raising an eyebrow,

"When…well…when I sort of worked for your father,"

"You _worked_ for him?" Darren questioned, surprise in his voice. His blue-grey eyes widened in shock,

"Well…not exactly _worked_ for him. _Infiltrated_ is the better term. I had to prove myself to him though before he told me anything. I had to become someone else when undercover. It was rough…it was difficult," Darren seemed to be musing over something,

"Slade said you knew my brothers…and my sister,"

"They…well…I tried to teach them to find their own paths, to turn from their father's—your father's—teachings. To be like us, I let them be a part of the Teen Titans or at least gave them the option to join,"

"And did they?"

"They did…but it didn't really work out for them. When I worked for Deathstroke I trained Rose, she did join the Teen Titans too but she left not long after. I don't really know where she is now—sorry. As for Grant and Joseph…I don't really know how they found their way back to their father's side. From what I gathered they didn't necessarily like him, but what do I know," he shrugged, glancing at Darren who looked at him with a fixed gaze as if trying to gauge whether he was lying or not. Dick wasn't lying…not completely. He really didn't know where Rose was or why the two brothers went back to following their father's ways but he didn't mention he thought the two—Grant and Joseph—were dead.

Darren seemed to think he spoke the truth because he walked back down along the glass cases, stopping again at the Renegade suit,

"What does renegade mean?" he asked. Dick figured he would've known the word but answered nonetheless,

"A person who deserts and betrays an organization, country, or set of principles," Dick replied, "I laid it on a little thick didn't I when I said I was ditching Bruce's moral code to work with Slade,"

"Perhaps he didn't really care whether you were really on his side or not. Maybe he just wanted Rose to know that there were other paths to take other than just his,"

"Perhaps," Dick said, though he wasn't convinced. He knew how ruthless Slade could be, but he didn't want to start an argument. Not after the one they had last night. Darren then went over to where they'd put the sword he brought with him. It was in a glass case on a pedestal near the glass cases for their suits, "If you want to learn to fight non-lethally with it, we can eventually teach you," Darren shook his head,

"No. I don't want to use that sword. I—I did a lot of terrible things with it. I didn't think about it for a while…but, how many people did I _kill?_ Talons and Owls?" Darren's voice was filled with misery...though layered with something else something that neither of them desired to pick at. Dick bit the inside of his lip, he didn't want to say but Darren's gaze bore into his own,

"twenty-seven Owl members, we don't know how many Talons. It could have been higher Darren…you were devastated, angry and hurt and well, people react recklessly when in that position," Darren looked away at the ground and, as Dick neared to try and offer comfort, he asked in a small voice,

"There were Owl children there…watching me and Asher in the Labyrinth…did—did I—?"

 _"No!"_ Dick said, his voice echoing off the cave walls even though he didn't intend to speak so loud. He put an arm around Darren's shoulders—noticing at a glance that Darren's height was now nearing his own—, "You didn't hurt any children. Trust me, we made sure. We checked all the obituaries, every article about anyone who recently died after you were brought here. There were no children, no teens…just…other Owl members,"

"That doesn't make it any better," Darren muttered bitterly, "Some of them had children…how many people did I orphan?"

 _"None,"_ Dick insisted, wondering why he thought of such a thing at the moment. Maybe their conversation about his father and his siblings brought to mind that his father was a mercenary, "No one was orphaned, Darren. You were coerced into killing everyone—,"

"No I wasn't," Darren snapped, "I may have been angry, and hurt and hurting but I made the conscious decision to kill all those people…I'm no better than them, killing anyone who is in their way," Dick gritted his teeth, hating how that argument was equally as true as it was false. Everything about Darren was a contradiction. He was raised to be a killer, who never wanted to kill. His first kill was only by accident, but he chose to kill those who made him do it. He was meant to be a Talon, an assassin yet he fought that fate for so long only to let it be his fate after circumstance. Dick glanced around the cave, trying to think of something to put Darren's mind at ease. The red Renegade suit caught his eye,

"I know you ran away once from the Court. That is how I found you the first time. You turned your back on their teachings, you never wanted to give in…and yes you eventually gave in to some degree but not in the way they wanted. You turned against them. You took their own teachings and used it against them. You made them afraid and that's why you are incredibly different from them. Maybe…maybe you can take it one step further, maybe you can retain that training but make it completely non-lethal. Maybe you can use it against them in an entirely different way. You're the real Renegade. That was just a role to me, but that really is what you are to the Court," Darren cracked a wavering grin still clearly set on hating what he'd done while all the same feeling it was warranted, a contradiction and something Dick wondered they'd ever resolve...perhaps over time.

Darren opened his mouth, ready as his stomach let out a loud growl, "I'm hungry," he stated afterward, whatever he'd originally been about to unearth forgotten. Dick let out at laugh, eager to let the humor wash away the conflict and guilt Darren felt and the growing worry Dick had for how Darren would face the truth of his actions. Dick overall hoped his words had offered comfort,

"Yeah, I can tell. C'mon, it has to be dinner time now," Dick managed a grin and with that, the two hurried up the cave stairs. Dick hoped that Darren's mind was at ease now about the events that happened after the hellhole maze he was forced to go through. Maybe it was, and maybe it wasn't but Dick hoped that over time Darren could make peace with it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter! I didn't really like this chapter that much when I re-read it so I definitely edited it a bit. My perspective on the topic of Thanksgiving had changed a lot since I initially posted this series and I wanted this chapter to reflect that even when trying to provide a bit of the positive aspect of that holiday for Darren who has never truly experienced it. 
> 
> I also wanted to make it clear that while Darren felt guilt for what he had done to the Talon and Owls, by crossing that invisible line he'd held in place for himself for so many years, there is still a part of him that feels it was justified...that liked killing the people who hurt and killed him. And additionally, there's a lot of Darren's past that is still unknown to Darren himself as well as to you readers. Trauma can greatly affect memory and that is definitely the case for Darren.
> 
> PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT if you have any questions, comments, and concerns!


	30. Chapter 30

Tim glanced over at Damian from his spot on the couch. The younger boy watched Dick and Darren as they crossed through the living room a dark scowl on his face. The other two were oblivious to the glaring. In fact, they were having an animate discussion about something. Tim didn't eavesdrop, no matter how tempting it was. He mostly just internally smirked at the insanely jealous expression Damian had on his face. Dick, Darren, and Bruce were going to head into the city for the reading of the will. He hoped it went well and that the custody case gets approved. It most likely would but the Powers were snakes, you tie them in knots they still somehow slither out unscathed. Tim watched, his book forgotten in his lap as Bruce joined Dick and Darren, the manila folder under one arm. He placed a hand on Darren's shoulder and Tim couldn't help but smile slightly at the fact that Darren didn't flinch away from Bruce, though perhaps he still was not entirely comfortable as his expression wavered before morphing into something unreadable. Darren had been through a lot…but it seemed he was feeling more comfortable with them, it was a process one that the Bats would welcome wholly. Glancing at Damian though he frowned, some people might not think Darren's inclusion within their family was a good thing. As the door closed Tim got up and meandered over to behind where Damian sat and rested an arm on the back of the couch,

"Someone jealous?" he asked, a smirk on his face. Damian glanced up at Tim with an annoyed expression,

"Hardly," he sneered,

"I saw you glaring at them," Tim stated,

"That doesn't mean _anything_ Drake,"

"Well, whatever you deny I know how you feel. I remember when you showed up at the Manor suddenly and then I was the jealous one," he stated pointedly. Damian may not be content with Darren's arrival but their own history was rocky and still was even though they did consider each other brothers,

"Tt, of course you'd be jealous of me Drake. I'm the superior one in every way," was Damian's haughty response. Tim restrained himself from rolling his eyes that time around,

"How ironic that Darren doesn't think that, even if he _is_ superior compared to you,"

"He's a cluster fuck of chemical drugs," Damian snapped, "None of that is natural,"

"So defensive," Tim stated in a teasing tone, clucking his tongue. He enjoyed getting under Damian's skin,

"I'm _not_ defensive," Damian insisted, his scowl now directed at Tim,

"Whatever you say," Tim replied with a shrug, "But you don't need to be jealous. Just because Darren seems to be overshadowing you in attention right now doesn't mean it will last. You're still Dick's little brother and Bruce's son. Not only that but you're still the youngest. And the youngest gets all the attention," he knew, to some degrees the insecurities each of the Bats carried and Damian often struggled with the thought of being left behind...not that the kid would ever admit it. Tim may not get along with his younger brother but he certainly wouldn't let the kid take it out on Darren,

"I don't need to be reassured about anything Drake, especially not by you," Damian growled darkly. Jamming his earbuds in and cranking up the volume to the max. Tim rolled his eyes saying knowingly,

"You should give him a chance Damian. You two have more in common than you may think," before turning on his heel heading up to his room. Whether the Demon child heard him or not Tim couldn't tell, but what he had said was very true even if Damian didn't see it himself. Both Darren and Damian were assassins based on a family legacy, though one was treated like a prince the other...not so much. Additionally, Damian had the chance to learn restraint as well as feel the affection a true family could provide something Darren never experienced nor would he understand and trust. They could learn a lot from each other if they truly tried to bridge whatever gap they perceived to lie between them and if Damian got over his jealousy from Dick's attention on Darren, 

Once inside the sanctuary of his bedroom, Tim picked his way across the messy floor and to his equally messy desk before turning on his computer his intention to begin his coursework for the evening though was distracted by a notification popping up. Apparently, Stephanie had texted him and he quickly replied via his computer instead of his phone—it was faster to type on an actual keyboard rather than a smaller one—,

'What should I bring for Thanksgiving next week?' Stephanie had asked. Tim rolled his eyes,

'Nothing. Alfred has it covered. You're fine,' he waited a moment, his fingers drumming on the surface of the desk. His mind wandering back to the will reading and back to the fact that his parents were supposed to be Darren's guardians. Tim didn't exactly know how to feel about that. While his parents were great people and did everything they could to be the best parents to him, they were more driven by their careers, and because of that neglected the parental side of things quite a bit. Raising one son was a hassle for them, even if they did try, but raising two? And the second who had a secret organization of assassins after him? Tim would like to believe it would last, but it probably wouldn't…though his family was important enough that if a kid of theirs went missing, it wouldn't disappear as quickly as the Court liked. Though if they had 'accidentally' managed to kill Darren, his parents would forget about him quickly. Tim on the other hand probably wouldn't though. At least he'd like to think he wouldn't so quickly forget about his adoptive brother so soon in that scenario. In real life Tim would never forget any of his brothers, though they may get on his nerves and try to literally kill him from time to time...they were family and that was important to Tim. The Court would probably have to wait before doing anything impactful so he and Darren would have probably become, well, like brothers. Especially since Tim's parents were so often away.

From what Tim knew and from what Darren had told him, the Court couldn't turn a child into a Talon. They had to wait until they were at most seventeen. The Electrum didn't hold as well in a child as it did for a teenager…Tim didn't know why, if he ever got a sample of the Electrum he'd investigate the reasoning behind the fact. They'd have to wait at least eleven years before trying anything to get Darren back. 

It would have been nice to have a brother, Tim decided, before everything happened...before he met Bruce and Dick and became Robin behind his parents back as well as before his parents' deaths. It would have been nice to share a life with someone else who could relate and understand those moments before his life after Robin. Though with a shake of his head, Tim forced himself away from the thought, that impossibility. It didn't happen that way, therefore he shouldn't think about the what-ifs. Instead, Tim focused on the fact that Darren said anything about the Electrum to him at all. The fact that Darren revealed that information willingly was a step forward...he was beginning to trust them...though it was also clear that Darren fed them information on the Court of Owls out of necessity, Tim guessed Darren felt that if he wasn't useful to the Bats in some way they'd abandon him. A terrible thought and realization but all the same Tim chose to believe Darren was also starting to feel comfortable around the rest of their family. Tim's computer pinged again and he quickly looked at Stephanie's reply,

'Really? I feel like a horrible guest every time I come with nothing,' she replied, 'I'm bringing dessert,' Tim thought for a moment before typing a reply,

'Bring pecan pie,' he finally amended, 'It's Darren's first Thanksgiving and I don't think he's had it before,' she replied with a laughing emoji,

'You _hate_ pecan pie. I could bring him any pie and he'd be happy…at least that's what Barbara said Dick mentioned to her. We haven't met the guy yet,' Frustration was apparent in her response and Tim couldn't blame her Darren was a mystery and that was something Stephanie would love to discover and 'spoil,' for herself,

'Pecan pie is more traditional and you will meet him on Thursday,' Tim answered instead of providing any details on Darren. He wanted Steph to make her own assumptions of Darren unhindered by what he thought and knew about Darren,

'I don't know anything about him, other than what tidbits Barbara shared. What if I make a bad impression?' he rolled his eyes again, knowing she was trying to trick him into giving more details,

'As if,'

'hilarious,' she deadpanned,

'He's not the kind to hold grudges,' Tim typed out, before reconsidering, he didn't actually know that for a fact. He deleted the first part and instead wrote, 'just don't mention the Court, his mom or his dad and you'll be fine,'

'Did he have a fight with his dad or something?'

'No, but he and Dick had a fight about his dad so…that would probably make things worse between them—though it seems to be all smoothed over now,'

'He and Dick are so alike in that aspect. Angry one minute, totally forgiving the next. Dick has a good reason to try and keep Slade from him though. He's not a good guy…and he's a liar,'

'No kidding, but he's also Darren's dad. He doesn't know him and what kid doesn't want to at least try to know his own parent?' Tim stated logically,

'I personally can't relate to that,' she replied. Tim snorted to himself. Cluemaster wasn't the most excellent of fathers that's for sure,

'Speaking of parents. Is your mom going to be joining us? Alfred wants to know' not exactly a lie, but Tim wanted to know specifically. He'd only seen Ms. Brown in passing and recent fighting and almost breaking up might have ruined any brownie points he had with his girlfriend's mother,

'Can't. She got a last-minute night shift at the hospital,' he almost let out a sigh of relief,

'That's too bad. Next time then,'

'You mean "thank God I'm off the hook,"' Stephanie corrected, a devil horned emoji with a little evil smirk after it,

'You're almost too good at holding grudges,' he stated, smirking lightly,

'And don't you forget it, Timothy,' with that he rolled his eyes and finally started on his homework for the day.

* * *

Darren followed Dick and Bruce into the pillared building in the heart of Gotham city. It was a very bright and very pristine place, though the details were lost to the recesses of Darren's memory as his focus was only on the task at hand and how it made it feel as if his chest was full of lead. The three of them stopped at a desk in the center of the main hall before heading to a different level and finally into a different room. It wasn't a courtroom, they weren't at that point of the custody battle yet. They might not even have to go to court if they managed to come to some agreement with the Powers…though Darren knew that probably wouldn't happen. They'd definitely have to fight them in order for Dick to obtain guardianship.

As they approached the designated area, Darren followed half a step behind Dick and Bruce as they entered the room, he already knew the Powers were inside. He'd heard three hearts instead of one on the other side of the door. The third member in the little office room was legal or financial personnel. Darren didn't know which kind, he didn't really care. He could only eye the Powers and could tell by their tense stances and the clenched jaws that they were not happy to have to be there. The will reader glanced up, Darren didn't recognize him from when he was younger. This wasn't the man who originally read and enforced his mother's fake will. The realization made Darren feel relieved, this man wouldn't favor the Powers…but it also made Darren wary, he didn't know who this person was.

Apparently the Powers didn't either. Lydia glared over at Bruce and took a half step forward, pointing a fatally long nail to the man sitting at the desk before her and snarled,

"Who the hell is this? Why is _your_ manager here? Lucius Fox is _not_ Darren's financial manager, not only that but he is loyal to you," Bruce raised an eyebrow,

"I assure you Mrs. Powers, that I am in fact Mr. Crowne's financial manager after Mr. Potentalia took a well deserved early retirement in the Caribbean. The benefit of maintaining the same kid's fortune for ten long years—he got pretty old. Since I manage Wayne Enterprises so nicely, the people in charge kindly offered me the role of ensuring that Darren's fortune stays in his hands…and only his hands," whoever this Mr. Fox guy was, Darren really liked him, "And that, of course, gives me access to his mother's will and I can interpret it in any way that I see fit," he said it like he was brandishing his words as a weapon,

"He's biased towards you!" Lydia hissed,

"Oh, and Martin wasn't biased towards you?" Bruce shot back, holding up the envelope containing the true will,

"And what is that, Mr. Wayne?" Lucius asked,

"This is the real will of Amanda Crowne. Locked away in a chest filled with things that rightfully belonged to Darren," he said,

"Illegally obtained more like it," Lydia inisisted,

"Not as illegal as following a fake will," Darren muttered and Lydia shot him a dark look, which would have once caused him to balk in fear…but for once Darren did nothing but glare back, leaving Lydia looking puzzled. Darren liked that, the feeling of not being afraid gave him. Darren felt himself relax, he even felt a small grin stretch across his face, but Lydia's glare promised death…and that made it fall from his face. The room suddenly felt colder and he took a deep breath to steady himself,

"If the property was filled with Mr. Crowne's stuff, then by default everything within it is his. Though not the chest itself,"

"We have that with us," Dick stated, setting it on the table, "The Powers can bring it back to its owner…whoever that is," Darren bit back a chuckle at Lydia and Shepard's face,

"Now, the moment of truth," Lucius said, taking the real will out and starting to read it. He looked between the two and clucked his tongue, "Well. It appears that several things are not the same here," He pointed to the bottom of the will and motioned for Darren to move closer,

"Do you remember ever seeing your mom's signature?" Darren nodded. He had in fact seen it once. His mother had been writing a letter to someone for something and he had wandered into the room bored or tired or both and she'd sat him on her lap and traced the letter out with her finger. Telling him what it said and who it was for. The body of the letter was lost to his memory, but her signature was unique and she guided his little five-year-old finger through the loops and the lines and the curls at the end, "Now tell me, are they different. And which is the one you remember,"

"They're different," Darren said at once, "It's slanted in the wrong direction and there's no underline. My mom always did that,"

"What does that matter! How would you even remember that! She died when you were five!" Lydia pointed out,

"She was _killed_ when I was five," Darren corrected sharply, "And it _is_ significant and I would remember it because she was left-handed and so am I!" well, he was ambidextrous now thanks to weapons training with both hands but he was still mainly a lefty, "Did you even know that?" he nearly barked at them. Lydia seemed taken aback but she just stiffly stepped back an inch and slowly shook her head,

"And I 'lived' with you for ten years," he said bitterly,

"Do _you_ even know that!" Shepard snapped at Dick. His cousin just smirked and nodded,

"Bumps elbows with Tim at the table all the time. Frustrates the hell out of both of them," Shepard glared at him but didn't say anything else,

"The line under the signature was there because the paper she was signing always got smudged with ink," Darren added, crossing his arms,

"That aside," Lucius started, "There is also no mention of the Powers in the true will of Amanda Crowne. It requested the Drake family to take guardianship of Darren should she and her father die…but seeing as the Drakes have both sadly passed as well, only a blood relative could claim guardianship. A close one at that. Now Mr. and Mrs. Powers are you related to Darren in any way?"

"No," Lydia said shortly,

"And Mr. Grayson, you are claiming that you are," Dick almost seemed to want to roll his eyes. Darren could tell that both Bruce and Dick knew Mr. Fox well, but of course, the latter had to keep everything official when dealing with legal and financial aspects of this issue,

"Yes. I am the great-grandson of Amelia Crowne, a descendent of the supposedly 'lost' firstborn son of Amelia," he stated. Darren knew he specifically didn't mention Philip Crowne, the man Amelia married to hide her first pregnancy with William. That part of the equation would just lead to more questions. Right now less was better, "We're second cousins,"

"And will you be willing to submit to DNA testing to determine the truth of that statement?" Lucius asked, writing a few things down, "We have already received your Third-Party Custody petition, and the Powers submitted theirs today which I have right here. We need your affirmation to continue,

"Yes Lucius, I do," Dick stated,

"And Mr. Crowne. Do you agree to submit to DNA testing?" Darren found Lucius's dark eyes bore into his and he nodded. Of course, he would. He wanted out of the Powers's clutches, "I need verbal confirmation,"

"Yeah. I do agree," Darren answered quietly,

"That said, it appears neither parties could come to an agreement regarding custody. You both refused joint-guardianship and given the wording of the true will I don't think the judge could even offer such an option because you, Mr. and Mrs. Powers, are not close relatives to Darren in any way. Additionally…did you know this will containing your name was a fake? There will be an investigation on this and if by any chance your answer does not align with the facts and evidence collected…well, there will be severe consequences," Lydia and Shepard were both quiet for a moment before Lydia reluctantly it seemed spoke,

"We were indeed surprised when we found out our names were listed as the requested guardians of Amanda's son should there be no blood relatives…but we didn't question the legitimacy of the will in the situation,"

"That isn't an exact answer Mrs. Powers," Lucius said, though he wrote it down anyway. Lydia looked nervous, it was the first time Darren ever saw her look as such. It made Darren want to smirk, but he held back. He didn't want to do anything that would ruin this,

" _No_. We didn't know the will was a fake," Lucius raised an eyebrow at that but only said,

"We shall see what evidence supports…or refutes that. Now that this is settled, I will get back to you as soon as I know when the court date is set. This will hopefully be resolved quickly. I will be in touch," with that Lucius stood and moved to shake hands with the Powers but they ignored him and marched out of the room, shooting dirty glances at Darren as they did so until it was just the four of them left,

"Thank you for doing this Lucius," Bruce said, shaking the man's hand instead, "I appreciate it greatly,"

"Anything for an old friend," Mr. Fox stated,

"You do realize this puts you in immense danger right?" Darren asked, "The Court will hunt you down…everyone you care about. They'll try and kill you all,"

"Well this kid is just a ray of sunshine," Lucius stated, a smile on his face though there was a hint of a critical glint in his eyes. As if he was sizing Darren up, wondering if risking his neck was worth it, "I've been risking my life ever since I started weaponizing the Batman with boatloads of tech and equipment,"

"You know!" Darren hissed, sending a surprised glance at Dick and Bruce, who both chuckled,

"Yes. Of course, I know. And do not worry about myself or my family. I know the risk and they are well out of the country so only I am the target, and I will be protected from anything they try,"

"If you're sure," Darren stated reluctantly. He didn't know what kind of protection he'd have, but he immediately started thinking of all the ways he'd try to get to Lucius if he had to take him out…how he'd work out the man's routine, find blindspots in any protections and software he had, make use of any medical issues or allergies...because that's surely what a Talon would do if affronted with a threat such as Lucius Fox to the Owls they protected. Thinking like that sobered Darren a bit, but he just shook his head a bit and tried to let it go though the dark cloud of thought remained pushed away but lurking in the back of his mind. The essence of such a feeling left Darren almost heavier, fatigued even,

"So what now?" he asked instead of focusing on the metaphorical cloud that suddenly hung over him,

"Now I go and try and set a court date...hopefully soon...while you and Dick get DNA tested as soon as possible,"

"Um…about that. Did the Mirakuru and the Electrum alter my DNA?" Darren asked, "If we can't get uncontaminated DNA then…well…we can't prove we're related,"

"Well…Mirakuru is biological," Dick muttered, "So that chemical is there no matter what, but it shouldn't interfere with whatever the DNA sequence is for the Crownes. The Electrum is another story. We'll have to ask Dr. Leslie. She's working on separating the two chemicals in your bloodstream, maybe she could look at this issue too,"

"We should be heading back. I'm sure the media's heard wind of this by now," Bruce stated knowingly, shaking Lucius's hand again as they all started to leave the room,

"Got Clark to post an article?" Dick murmured to Bruce as they strode down the hallway,

"Didn't take much, he's happy to help in any way he can," Bruce stated, "Though he still tried to convince me to take his shift on monitor duty,"

"Who's Clark?" Darren asked, "And what's 'monitor duty?'" Dick chuckled and ruffled his hair, which Darren stepped away from throwing his cousin a slight scowl,

"I'll explain over dinner, c'mon let's celebrate!" Dick exclaimed, unperturbed by Darren dancing away from his touch, "We're getting Big Belly Burger!"

"I don't think—," Bruce started frowning as they walked to the elevator,

"—Bruce, c'mon. He is literally a free man now. No Powers to worry about, the Court can't do anything because it will look too suspicious now that people are getting wind of this custody battle through social media and the news. We're free agents. Besides, Darren wants to go out into the city. Right, don't you Darren?" Dick stated, slinging an arm around his shoulder, this time managing to stay Darren's reluctance for touch. Darren couldn't help but feel a small grin stretch across his face unintentionally...he didn't know what Big Belly Burger was, but it sounded like somewhere with food and he wouldn't turn down the opportunity to have food. Darren looked over at Bruce, nodding as enthusiastically as he could despite his consternation regarding the Powers and the guardianship suit the Bats were taking on. His cousin wanted to celebrate and Darren didn't want to disappoint. Bruce rolled his eyes as the elevator dinged for the main lobby,

"Fine. But don't be late for patrol," he monotoned, stepping inside the elevator,

"Oh. I would _never!"_ Dick exclaimed in false high pitched voice, pretending to be wounded by Bruce insinuating that he was often late for patrol when he in fact was not— _usually_. With a laugh, Dick with Darren in tow hurried off into the night shrouded city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked this chapter. I don't necessarily know the process of suing for child custody nor am I an expert in will readings but I did research this a bit when I initially wrote the chapter so some of the information here has to be correct...and I'm sure it varies state to state and country to country but this is how the chapter describes it and I'm sticking with it. 
> 
> I did edit a bit of the interaction between Darren and the others...I feel like he was a little too sure in this chapter but I will say it's more likely to please the people around him than anything he's still getting used to the Bats and the family they form even if he isn't always written as such. Sometimes whatever positive thing he feels is legitimate other times it's not and more often than not Darren can't even tell what is genuine and what is faked for the people around him...that can definitely be seen later on in this series. Additionally, one thing you can definitely get from this chapter, and this story even, is that Darren can be an unreliable narrator...even if it's not in the first-person perspective.


	31. Chapter 31

"I really like burgers," Darren said as he and Dick walked over to where Alfred was kindly waiting to pick them up, "I've never actually had a burger before, to be honest. I mean we had meat to eat, but it wasn't a _burger_ ,"

"You should try a hot dog next time," Dick said, it was very cold out. Darren was freezing but didn't want Dick to worry. Sure Talons virtually froze in the cold, but that was at below-freezing temperatures it wasn't that cold outside that night,

"It's not made of—," Darren started to ask,

"—No, it's not made of actual dogs," Dick said, nodding over at an alley that cut across one street over, "C'mon, let's turn down here, it'll get us there sooner. You look like you're freezing to death," Darren threw a side-eyed glare his cousin,

"I'm not _that_ cold," he muttered, ignoring the 'to death' comment somewhat bitterly,

"Sure. Definitely believe you with that miserable pout on your face,"

"I'm not pouting!" Darren snapped, he never pouted...well he never let anyone see him pout. Darren pouted internally,

"Calm down moody," Dick stated, "Aren't you happy? We're one step closer to getting rid of the Powers. And you can freely come outside more often. Of course, it would be better if one of us is with you, but it's a win!"

"I know. I am happy. But I'm worried that they'll try and get William to claim custody," Darren sighed, his attention drifting to the ground as if the mere thought of William claiming custody was enough to weigh him down,

"They couldn't do that effectively. At least we assume so," Dick amended, "He's not a very close relative to you. He's your great-grandfather. That's three generations worth of separation,"

"True," Darren replied, but the doubt was still there...rooted deeply, Darren could lose everything in an instant, the Bats included. And Darren found he didn't want that to happen...a sentiment that surprised him. A scuff echoed causing Darren to jerk to attention, squinting into the darkness around them, he thought he saw a dark shape move in the distance of the alleyway. The back of Darren's neck prickled with anticipation...his mind jumping to the Court's Talons taking advantage of their little victory celebration, he should have never agreed to go out with Dick despite how enjoyable it was, "Are you sure it was a good idea to come down here?" Darren whispered,

"Probably not," a voice behind him said, Darren attempted to spin around but wasn't quick enough to escape the person's arm snaking around his shoulders and a knife being placed at his throat, "Wallet and phone rich guy or the kid dies," Dick stared levelly at the guy, another coming to cut off their pathway out of the alley. So Darren had seen someone at the end of the alleyway,

"Did you not hear him? Hand everything over!" the second guy growled. Darren couldn't help it, he let out a laugh,

"Kick his ass," he told Dick as he grabbed the guys arm and flipped him onto the hard concrete. His supposed mugger gasped in surprise and pain, unable to bring air into his lungs from the hard toss. Dick leapt at the second man, wrestling a gun out of his hand and tossing it back the way they came before trying to get a kick in. Darren's mugger scrambled to his feet and swung wildly with his knife. To Darren it appeared he was moving in slow motion. It was almost like he saw the guy's movements _before_ they happened. It was strange but seemed so… _right_. Darren dodged each of the swipes, ducking and weaving smoothly out of the guy's reach but he lost concentration when Dick let out a grunt of surprised pain. He glanced behind him and saw that his cousin was fine but didn't look back in time to dodge the first goons knife. It slashed him deeply on the chest but Darren didn't stumble or cry out…in fact they both stopped what they were doing. The guy because he expected Darren to fall over with a cry of pain and bleed a lot. Darren because it had been his first time getting wounded by a non-serum weapon…and he felt _nothing_. Not a sting or a small prick… _nothing_ ,

"What the hell? What are you man?" the guy cried out in surprise. Darren grinned and pulled back his fist to punch him in the face. The guy's nose crushed on impact. He stumbled back with a cry of pain but somehow stayed on his feet. Darren shoved the guy and he flew back a few feet hard onto his ass and Darren flitted over to him—an undistinguishable blur of unnatural speed—ready to strike again...but the ground was grimey and Darren had never really used his speed for controlled purposes, it had always been an accident. Darren's left shoe slid off in the movement on the ground, but he paid no mind to it. This would be over quickly, nor did it matter that he lost his shoe he's fought barefoot more often than not,

"Darren," Dick said warningly from where he and the other guy wrestled yet again with a gun or a weapon of some sort. Darren glanced back again and saw that Dick wasn't in trouble, but he was reminding him that he was stronger than most everyone now. With a sigh Darren turned back and saw the first goonie stumble to his feet and Darren stepped forward to meet him, bringing his leg up for a nice push-kick in the solar plexus but the guy swung his knife at the same time, and lodged the weapon right in the side of Darren's heel. Pain seared through his foot and up his leg. He cried out and toppled onto the ground. Sirens flared nearby, signs of a chase, which freaked the two would-be muggers out,

"Let's get the hell out of here! They're not worth it," the second guy called and they both sprinted away,

"Darren! What's wrong?" Dick asked as he ran over to him, stopping to grab Darren's lost shoe,

"I… _gah_ …I have a knife in my foot!" Darren exclaimed, he had his foot raised and not touching the floor. He didn't understand why he felt the pain. Did the Electrum only work for certain injuries? If only he actually _knew_. The other Talons healed from virtually anything, he's seen it with his own eyes,

"Why is it hurting? I thought Talons don't feel pain!" Dick sounded panicked, not a comforting thing to hear,

 _"I don't know!"_ Darren hissed, probably not a comforting thing to hear either,

"Okay. I'm calling Dr. Leslie and then we're hurrying to Alfred," Dick said, pulling out his phone as he helped Darren towards the nearest wall,

"This really hurts…not like Serum level pain but… _ah_ …it hurts a lot," Darren muttered, sliding down along the rough bricks to the dirty floor that cost him his shoe and apparently his heel,

"I've been knifed a lot so I can totally get where you're coming from…though I've never been stabbed in the foot,"

"Have you been…ah…shot in the foot?" Darren questioned, hoping for a humorous story to distract him,

"Many times…mostly from Jason. He thinks it's funny when it's really not," Dick stated flatly as if remembering each of those times,

"Who _is_ he?" Darren asked, looking up at Dick, blinking through the sudden rain,

"Dr. Leslie…yeah we're going to—," Darren blocked out the conversation until Dick helped heave him up and hobbled with him to the waiting car one street over,

"Oh my word. What happened?" Alfred asked as he got out to help ease Darren across the back seats,

"Muggers," Dick said,

"Ah yes…why hasn't it healed?" Darren, somehow through the pain managed to wonder how Alfred remained so calm...perhaps this wasn't the first time something like this has occurred,

"Don't know…usually the Electrum forces out whatever is blocking it from healing the wound…but it's…gah…not doing it for this one,"

"Did the mugger pick up a Serum blade by accident?" Dick asked,

"They don't exactly drop those kinds of blades around…unless—unless they were hunting a Talon," Darren stated through gritted teeth. _Like Calvin…and now me_ Darren mused to himself. He bit the inside of his cheek to prevent another cry of pain as he tried to shift back more so Dick could get in, "Sorry for the blood on the leather seats," he told Alfred,

"Isn't the first time this happened, won't be the last," was his reply as the Butler sped through the night time Gotham traffic and back to the Manor.

* * *

They took Darren to the Batcave and lay him down on a cot. Dr. Leslie was already there, having reached the mansion before they did, and hurried over to them, concern on her face. Tim had already been downstairs for some time and frowned at the knife still in his foot when he wandered over. Dick hadn't dared try to take it out, he was no doctor and Alfred was driving. Bruce and Damian were already out on patrol with Batgirl and Spoiler, Tim had just been about to meet up with them but apparently decided this was more important, or at least more _interesting_ ,

"What happened?"

"We were mugged, we fought back. Nothing worrisome happened until the end. He just fell down with the knife in his heel,"

"I'm right here, I can speak for myself… _ugh_ …I had been slashed…uh…earlier," Darren stated, trying to keep his pain to himself. He'd been trained to deal with pain, with exception to a Serum weapon because he hadn't been a Talon yet but all the reinforcement his trainers used to control such expression had been taken away and Darren couldn't keep that mindset. His reaction to pain was slipping through. Darren took a deep breath to center himself, he's dealt with worse. Alfred connected an IV to his arm, which Darren glared at,

"I'm going to give you some pain medication, to at least lessen the pain," Alfred explained ignoring the stare,

"I don't know if that will work effectively on him," Tim stated, "His eyes are gold, so the Electrum _is_ trying to heal something,"

"It's healing the other wound I told you about," Darren said, "It was deep, but it's almost healed. I don't know… _egh_ …what's up with my heel,"

"Let's get an X-ray and a CT scan of that foot…a fast one," Dr. Leslie decided, moving to start wheeling him to the machines,

"Can't we take it out?" Darren asked, gritting his teeth,

"No! Not yet. I don't want to sever any tendons or ligaments in your foot. Those would heal wrong if it is just the knife blocking the Electrum,"

"It would just push the blade out," Darren argued,

"My patient my rules," Leslie stated sternly. Effectively shutting Darren up.

After the X-ray and the CT scan were done and as Dr. Leslie and Alfred were developing and checking out the results, Darren lay on the cot, one arm slung over his face, the other lay across his chest clenched into a fist,

"Are the pain meds helping at all?" Dick asked, leaning onto the cot with his elbows,

"No,"

"I told Bruce why we're late," Tim said walking over. Darren let out a groan,

"Now he'll think it's my fault you two were late,"

"Well, technically we could just leave you to the mercy of Dr. Leslie and Alfred and go on patrol but we've decided to be good people and make sure you don't accidentally injure or kill one of them," Darren pulled his arm away from his face to glare at Tim at the foot of the bed,

"Oh don't be like that… _both_ of you," Dick said,

"Well. I now know two things. One that might help this situation, another that won't but it's just an interesting discovery," Dr. Leslie said holding up the X-ray and the CT results, "Actually three things,"

"What are they?" Dick asked,

"Well, no ligaments or tendons have been torn,"

"That's always good,"

"You also have Sever's Disease,"

"I have what!" Darren exclaimed, jerking into a sitting position which irritated his wound, _"Ow!"_

"It's not so much a disease, more of an injury. It's actually very common in extremely active children. During a growth spurt, a child's heel bone grows faster than the muscles, tendons, and ligaments in their leg. When the muscles and tendons can't grow fast enough to keep up, they are stretched too tight. It leads to swelling and joint pain. It's kind of like arthritis in your heel. Usually it's very painful and hard to miss…but for you it may be different. The Mirakuru might've been masking the injury and trying to heal it on its own. You said wounds you got before you became a Talon healed quicker than they should have, that was the work of the Mirakuru. It's not enough to heal a wound instantly but enough to work on the healing. At least that's what I am assuming for this case. Though most cases for boys are between the ages of ten and fifteen,"

"Well…my training did pick up a lot right before I ran away. I was always sore and exhausted so I might have mistaken actual heel pain for just plain soreness…for any ages really," Darren stated as he settled back down on the cot,

"Did you experience pain in your heel before too?" Dr. Leslie asked,

"Well yeah, but I had a meta—menta, no metar, _no_ meta _tarsal_ stress fracture when I was ten…or maybe eleven. So I guess I thought the pain was from that…I don't think it ever really healed right. I was still doing stuff when I probably should have been resting it," Dr. Leslie frowned,

"Yes. I can see that. That was what the X-ray showed. You're lucky you don't have a bump in your foot from the fractured bone,"

"It wasn't like they could set it," Darren muttered, "A stress fracture is just a hairline break,"

"Well I think we can take the knife out now and seal the wound," Dr. Leslie said, "Dick, Tim, hold him down…this will hurt and I don't think the pain killers are doing anything for him,"

"Wait…what!" Darren cried, trying to lurch forward only to be stopped as Dick vaulted up onto the cot and sat on his chest, "Dick…get off!"

"No, I'm pretty sure this is the only way to keep you down and from hurting yourself or others," Dick stated,

"You'll get blood on your ass from my other wound!" Darren yelled,

"You'll thank me later," Tim just grabbed hold of his legs, but did use his knee for extra restraint. Dr. Leslie took hold of the knife and pulled. Darren yowled and flinched, nearly dislodging Dick, but it didn't hurt as much as he thought it would. Leslie then put pressure on the wound and mopped up the blood that dripped out of before sterilizing it and started to prepare the string and suture needle. As Dr. Leslie worked she spoke of the results from her last visit,

"Everything appears normal. And I did manage to separate the Mirakuru and the Electrum. The latter appears to be more dominantly present in your bloodstream. But the extra Mirakuru injected into your bloodstream seems to bind easier to your blood cells because they were there biologically. There doesn't seem to be much conflict between them…which is good. Your body accepted both drugs instead of one over the other, it isn't fighting to get rid of either of them." Her findings eased Darren's troubles. At learning there was a possibility that there could be some disastrous consequences from combining two different drugs in one body, he'd been silently worrying about it for a while. Now it appeared there was nothing to worry about at all.

The actual stitching of the wound just felt like a dozen little pin-pricks in a row with a bit of tugging here and there…or maybe the pain killers had kicked in…or Dick was cutting off enough oxygen to his brain that it was making him loopy. Either way, sooner rather than later his foot was wrapped up with gauze and an ace bandage and Dick was finally off his chest so he could sit up,

"I still do not understand why it did not heal like the injury on your chest," Alfred stated, genuinely concerned. Tim looked equally thoughtful, though less concerned,

"Darren give me your hand," without thinking Darren held out his hand. Tim took hold of one of his fingers and snapped it, the bone cracked loudly for the others to here,

"Timothy!" Dr. Leslie scolded. Darren didn't even flinch. He just stared as his finger instantly popped back into place,

"It's like it is blocked by something," Tim deduced. Dick nodded but then reached out and smacked Tim on the head, _"hey,"_

"You don't just break people's fingers to make a point," Dick stated only a bit sternly,

"Oh…right," Darren muttered sighing, "I know why this is happening. Electrum can't heal old wounds…wounds that have already been healed—whether they healed correctly or wrong. It revives the person and then heals all wounds after it's been circulated through the body continuously. I had a stress fracture and apparently Sever's Disease…I've also broken that ankle—but they made sure that healed correctly. My left foot's had it pretty rough," he said with a sheepish and lopsided grin,

"So the Electrum technically can't reach your left foot entirely and therefore it can't heal anything. The blood flow is fine, but the Electrum's capabilities won't activate. The Mirakuru speeds healing up but it's not instantaneous like it is for Slade,"

"Yeah…it's science, not magic. There's limitations on what it can and can't do," Darren said,

"But does that make it impossible for other…er…parts of you to heal," Dick asked,

"It may or it may not. We'll have to see. I broke my entire ankle which is kind of right where blood flow goes through to get to my whole entire foot…so it might be that specifically blocking the capabilities of the Electrum," Darren said, "I didn't wound every part of me as badly as my left foot," he added, edging himself off the cot,

"I'll get the crutches," Dick said leaving the medical area,

"I don't need them," Darren called to his cousin's retreating form, grimacing as he put some weight on his foot. He then decided to only put pressure on the front of his left foot, not the entire foot and that worked better,

"Daren I don't think—," Tim started, moving to follow him as he hobbled toward the stairs,

"I'm tired and you guys need to go on patrol," Darren said, waving at their motorcycles parked and ready to go out into the city, " _Go_ ," Dick returned with the crutches giving Darren a hard look as he tried to pass him,

"Darren you need the—,"

"No. I don't need them. I never needed them before and I don't need them now,"

"Even with your _broken_ ankle?" Tim asked incredulously. Darren froze realizing then that perhaps he shouldn't have said that. Well…he did eventually have the crutches back in the Nest when he had injured his ankle…he just had to earn them in the first place. He chose not to mention this out loud and instead started forward again,

"You boys both head out. I will make sure that Master Darren here uses these crutches and see Dr. Leslie out," Alfred said watching as Dick and Tim—with a glance back at Darren still trying to make it up the stairs—roared out of the cave disturbing the bats slumbering up above in the Cave, before the determined Butler started after Darren himself. His and Dr. Leslie's footfalls echoing off the walls, "Master Darren please use these. You will fall," Alfred said it s monotonously but his gaze held a certain intensity as he again held out the crutches,

"I'm _fine_ Alfred. I don't need them," Darren insisted stubbornly,

"I say that you do. Your foot is going to heal normally. Doctor's orders," Dr. Leslie stated,

"Doubly so by this doctor," Alfred added in agreement, "At least do it to ease an old man's worry," Darren glanced back at the two of them, a step or two behind him, biting the inside of his cheek considering. Alfred wasn't like Harold the Powers' Butler…he wouldn't lie and cheat and yell at him about anything. He was very kind…and he _did_ seem worried,

"Okay. Fine. But only because you do seem worried," Darren stated, taking the crutches from him,

"There's a good boy. Take yourself to bed sir, and I'll bring up some hot chocolate for you," Darren felt a smile curl on his lips, he was touched by the Butler's thoughtfulness,

"I'd really like that," Darren replied quietly, hurrying up the last few steps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are two distinct kind of moments when you go through your older stories where you're either like 'oh my god why did I write this' or you're like 'I am a freaking genius,' this chapter was definitely the former, not the latter. Though I think this chapter does a pretty decent job of explaining the differences between the Mirakuru and the Electrum, both of which flow through Darren's veins. Let me know if anything was unclear or you have more questions about the Mirakuru and the Electrum.
> 
> That being said I did have to change a few things, I initially had Dr. Leslie giving Darren an MRI—this was before I actually learned in depth what an MRI was and can do other than a machine that develops in-depth images of the human body—which would not have worked for Darren's case or with a metal knife still in his foot. A CT scan, though probably more commonly used for head injuries, would work better as it wouldn't rip anything metal out of the human body even if the imagery would be somewhat distorted from the knife's presence. I also, as usual, added more action with dialogue and more descriptors for the story. As this was one of my first real fanfictions this earlier story definitely lacked those features. 
> 
> PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT if you have any questions comments and/or concerns. Hope you liked this chapter!


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed chapter. I spent the day with a friend of mine and she lives two hours away so I left before I could put up anything. Nonetheless here is the next chapter!

Darren was watching TV. He was on the couch, his feet hanging over the back of it with his head on the cushions and his crutches—which he still had to be reminded to use—were leaning against the couch next to him. Perhaps not the most comfortable way to watch TV but to Darren it was comfortable. While he knew what most technologies were he hadn't really known how to operate them when he'd first been in the manor. Not just because Darren had been hidden away in the Nest where his whole day revolved around training, but because the Powers wouldn't let him indulge in the entertainment their sons got to have. Even so, Darren was enjoying everything now. Everyone, but mostly Tim, had been helping him use different technological devices. He was getting better with it all. As of now, the TV was the main object of technology Darren could use on his own it was after all pretty straight forward. Bruce silently meandered into the room, a determined air to his step, and turned the television—or telly, as Alfred called it—off. Darren frowned and jerked his feet up and to the side so he could sit upright. The stitches themselves didn't hurt, but Darren's heel still throbbed rather annoyingly. Mirakuru didn't do much for pain but it did heal wounds faster than they would without it. He directed his attention to the moment at hand, it was clear Bruce wanted to talk about something,

"What is it?" he asked guarded and slightly wary,

"Well, I was on the phone with Lucius and the topic of schooling came up," Bruce started, a slight frown on his face,

"I have my GED," Darren responded automatically, not eager to face the books once more,

"I told him that, but the thing is there is a letter or piece of paper which proves that you passed it. The judge in the courtroom would need to see it,"

"And I don't have it. The Powers do…or the Owls do, I don't even know," Darren groaned, putting his head in his hands, "Can't you or Tim forge one?"

"Not effectively. They change what the form looks like, we don't know what the one you received looks like. Plus it's signed by the proctor of the exam. I don't think you know who that was," Darren sighed and straightened up, throwing Bruce a worried look,

"So what are we going to do?"

"Well…in the eyes of the law, you still need to be educated, even if you have taken the GED test…there's no proof at the moment. So there are two options,"

"Okay, that's good. I can decide," Darren stated, perking up slightly,

"Well…they're either go to Gotham Academy or homeschooling. But putting you in school with other students can endanger them, especially after or really if the court meeting goes our way. The Owls can send Talons there and hold hostages,"

"Oh…so homeschooling then?" Darren wasn't too upset about that, he was just more annoyed that all his efforts just to get the GED were for nothing,

"You could take the test again," Bruce suggested, "I just think you'd rather be doing something while you live here other than watch TV or use the equipment in the Cave,"

"I thought I would be living with Dick?" Darren asked, suddenly concerned, a near panicked feeling weighing on his chest. That was the whole point...that was why they were going up against the Powers for custody. Dick would be his guardian therefore Darren would live with his cousin, with Dick...didn't Dick want Darren to live with him? Bruce spoke up, a careful expression on his face as if he sense Darren's turbulent yet panicked mood,

"Well…hear me out Darren...while Dick's penthouse does have the same security as the mansion the people in the rest of the apartment building do not. We can't risk innocent lives…that is if the Court is so adamant to get you back in their clutches or to kill you,"

"That...that makes sense," Darren muttered, a bit disappointed. He tried not to let it show, but Bruce's gaze softened as if he could see or sense that he was upset,

"You will still have a room there and you can spend short amounts of time at Dick's apartment, but you can't truly live there. I know this is difficult to hear, but we do have to think of the innocents that would be in the cross-fire while we deal with the Court," Darren nodded, slightly still sullenly,

"I think I'd prefer homeschooling," Darren stated, "I really don't want to have to go through the GED again…it was difficult and long. I'm surprised I even passed to be honest, maybe I didn't. Maybe they lied,"

"I'm sure you did well," Bruce said, "you are a smart boy," Darren let out a scoff,

"No offense, but you hardly know me,"

"I know enough," Bruce said. Whatever that meant, "I'll set up the homeschooling enrollment online and order the books in large print for you,"

"You knew too?" Darren cried, surprised,

"I'm Batman, Darren. I know everything, including that you're Dyslexic. It's nothing to be ashamed of," Darren pulled a disbelieving face, which Bruce took in stride, "well then, speaking of knowing things. The court date has been set up. Six to eight months is what Lucius said. We'll know a more precise date once we get closer that deadline,"

 _"Six to eight months?"_ Darren exclaimed, _"Really?"_

"Hopefully closer to six," Bruce stated with a sigh, "Or sooner than that,"

"That's a lot of time for them to plan something…that is if they really want me back. I hope they just give up,"

"It's plenty of time for us to plan as well. Don't worry Darren this will go our way. You won't go back to the Powers or the Court and they can't touch you right now, not when this is big news. The media will be all over this, especially because of the scandal that will fall upon the Powers,"

"Yeah, try saying that in a few months," Darren muttered, crossing his arms and staring darkly down at the floor,

"The news will bring it back up as the deadline gets closer and there will be interviews and rumors and anything those kind of people can dreg up,"

"I hope you're right,"

"I am right," he sounded so certain, but Darren couldn't trust that,

"So you're always right and you know everything. Anything else I ought to know?" Darren asked. Bruce gave him a look before shaking head a hesitant grin crossing his face understanding the slight joke. Darren returned the smile though it felt more like a grimace and gestured for the remote, "I wasn't done watching," he stated. With an eye roll Bruce handed him the device and he shifted back into the position he had before Bruce walked in. Of course it was frustrating and nerve-wracking to have to wait so long, but it did also give them time to plan and think. It was a race to the deadline and Darren didn't really like that it seemed to be so chaotic...there was so much that could happen in the meantime, a thought that worried him. Darren wondered what his father would think…what he would say. He didn't like the knot that formed in his chest at the thought of Slade discovering that he went through with custody being given to Dick and not him. And he didn't like the fact that he didn't know what Slade would do or how he would react if ever learning the truth.

Shoving those thoughts aside, Darren turned his attention back to the TV. Mindless actions were a better alternative at the moment.

* * *

"I swear I didn't know I was bleeding that much," Dick told Alfred, "I thought it was just a flesh wound," he smiled at the Butler, trying to ease the concerned expression Alfred gave him as he readied the suture needle and thread. Alfred had to hook him up with a blood transfusion beforehand. A thug, one of Two-Face's, had got him pretty good in the side. Though Dick running on adrenaline hadn't noticed how deep and bloody the wound was until later,

"Flesh wounds don't cause one to pass out and nearly fall off rooftops. You were lucky Master Damian was there or—," he stopped talking at once, seeing Dick's expression darken. Any mention of falling great heights and the death such a fall would cause made him turn that way. He hated the idea of falling, and Alfred was right about that but he didn't have to bring it up,

"I'm sorry Master Dick, but it needed to be said. You need to take care of yourself. Not just because you should but because you're the only one master Darren's got left," Dick was silent after that. The truth of those words ringing in his head as Alfred fixed him up. Of course there was Slade as well as Darren's brothers and sister, but Alfred had meant he's the only _good_ influence left for Darren. Who knew what would happen if Slade got custody of him.

Eventually Alfred let him back up into the manor and Dick, who was still light headed and woozy, stumbled up the stairs working his way up slowly to his old bedroom. A sound on the way to the east wing, his room was on the west and a grand staircase connected the two, made Dick stop in his march up the stairs. It sounded like a cry of pain. Dick was instantly on alert, Darren's room was in that wing, the technical 'guest' wing. Silently he inched his way along the hallway to the end and pushed Darren's door open a crack. The room was empty save for Darren who was fidgeting in his sleep. Jerking about, tossing and turning. He cried out again and Dick frowned, he was having a nightmare. He pushed the door open fully and silently entered the room.

The curtains were drawn closed, save for the door that led to the balcony. Papers were strewn about on the bed. Some crumpled and folded oddly because he had clearly fallen asleep while reading them, which was proven by the lamp still being on casting shadows about the room. Dick knew he must have been extremely exhausted if he had managed to fall asleep with a light on. Darren let out another cry and Dick wondered if he should wake him. It sounded pretty bad, but at the same time he didn't know how Darren would react to being woken and 'caught' having a nightmare. It wasn't unknown that he had them, but it was never discussed either.

Darren let out a shaky breath of air, like he was having trouble breathing and that decided it. Dick moved to the edge of the bed,

"Darren. Hey. You're dreaming," he said as loudly as he dared. Darren twitched, letting out another cry. With a sigh Dick reached over and gently shook him on the shoulder, "Darren. It's a nightmare, wake up," Darren's eyes flew open and in an instant—Dick could barely comprehend Darren's movements—he was flat on his back on the bed and Darren stood above him a hand griping his throat tightly, the other hand raised to strike. Dick was stunned into silence for a moment. Not because of the fearful as well as terrifying look Darren had on his face, or the fact that his eyes were opened but not seeing who was really pinned beneath him. It wasn't just the grip around his throat hindering his breathing that silenced him. His silence was caused by the fact that Darren's other hand wasn't raised in a fist to hit him or a flat hand to slap him, but it was raised like a claw. As if ready to rip his heart out or claw him to shreds, and he _could_ do that now. He was strong enough to cleave right through bone and do just that. Before Darren could do anything of the likes though, Dick found his voice,

"Darren, it's me...Dick! You had a nightmare. It wasn't real, you are safe!" he tugged at his cousins hand and relaxed when he saw the glazed over expression fade. Darren shook himself and blinked before looking down at Dick, and his expression turned to horror. He then, and Dick could only assume he threw himself off of him, because one second he still had Dick pinned down and the next he had slammed himself back into the adjacent wall muttering "Sorry, I'm so sorry," over and over again. Dick sat up gingerly, not wanting to pop any of his stitches, before hurrying over to Darren's side,

"It's all right Darren. It's all _right_ ," he insisted, "You had a nightmare. I shook you out of it and it startled you. It's okay," the mention of the nightmare brought a sudden flash of remembrance and fear into his cousin's eye. He took a shaky breath, and then another…as if it, in the past few seconds, had suddenly gotten harder to breathe. Darren sprung to his feet—clearly forgetting about his injured heel—faster than Dick's eyes could detect, again reminding him that Darren wasn't like any ordinary person, and stumbled towards the balcony doors. Dick rose to his feet quickly, suddenly concerned for Darren,

"Darren. What are you doing. Don't—!" he cut himself off and dashed after Darren as he flung the doors open and stumbled out on the the stone balcony before collapsing to his knees. He took in mouthfuls of the cold November night air, his body shuddering. Dick stopped a few steps away, unsure of what to do but aware of how cold it was outside. Winter in Gotham was harsh. It had already snowed a good five inches and it was only November, and Talons do not do well in the cold…especially ones in pajamas even if they were long-sleeved,

"Darren, you need to come inside. You'll freeze out here," Dick said as calmly as he could. He did not want to push Darren and he especially did not want to bring up the nightmare…even if he did wish Darren would open up and talk about what was causing him such unrest in his sleep. Though he also equally couldn't blame him for wanting to keep it to himself. Dick had done the same and still does the same. Darren took another shaky breath before speaking,

"S-sorry. I…I just needed to _feel_ and remember that…I'm…alive," the words uttered turned Dick's blood to ice. And as Darren stood and turned to face him they were not the only words confirming what Darren had been dreaming about. He _looked_ like death, like a dead man walking. His skin turned a pasty pale white—and while Talons were considerably pale, this was a even lighter shade of that paleness—, dark circles from past sleepless nights were very apparent under his eyes. His lips even looked blue, and everything was all from the cold of course but it made him look like a ghost. Dick didn't speak for a moment. He needed a moment to process it all, the sight of his cousin like this so reminiscent of his actual death. It was as if Dick was seeing Darren drop to the warehouse floor all over again. After everything that happened he hadn't considered that Darren was dreaming about dying, or of his own death in general. Dick shook himself,

"Come on inside Darren. You're turning to ice," was all he could say. Darren nodded, stumbling and limping back inside…clearly exhausted and still tired. Once inside Dick closed the doors and turned to face Darren, who still looked like he was a ghost, he was shivering still too,

"Were you…did you—?" Dick couldn't seem to form the words,

"Yes," Darren said shortly,

"How often—?"

"Often enough," Darren muttered, his expression turned haunted, "too often really,"

"Of only that? When did this start?"

"A…well…a few days ago. And it's not just me…you know…" Darren, in an odd moment of openness, couldn't say it either it seemed, "it's sometimes leads to… _after_ I woke up," Dick grimaced…he couldn't hide it. Darren ran a hand up and down his upper arm, where the end of 'after he woke up' formed. The scars that were left there,

"How much sleep have you been getting?"

"Five or four hours probably…I haven't been keeping track really," Darren shrugged, as if that were normal. Dick frowned, he needed more than just five,

"Why didn't you _say_ anything. We're here to help and to listen," Darren stared up at Dick, emptiness in his expression,

"You wouldn't understand," was all he said. He looked sullenly down at the ground, a slight tremble still rolling through him. He was still cold. Dick pulled the comforter off of the bed and wrapped it around Darren's shoulders,

"How about you bunk with me for the night. You aren't alone, and you shouldn't think you have to be. We can watch a movie until we both fall asleep," Darren didn't say anything just silently, and a little uncertainly, followed Dick up the stairs and to his room—without the crutches much to Dick's annoyance, though he didn't say anything.

Darren sat bundled up in a nest of his comforter on Dick's bed as Kick-Ass played on his computer screen. Dick didn't pay attention. He was too busy thinking over what Darren had said. They understood death…but they had never experienced it. They didn't know what it was like, especially not being murdered so abruptly. Perhaps they couldn't help but—

Dick glanced down at Darren who had finally fallen asleep, curled up in a ball only his face visible through the comforter bundle. Darren frowned in his sleep, but he slept soundly. The nightmare took a lot out of him—and Dick knew someone who could definitely understand what Darren had been through and how to get past the fear and the nightmares. Careful not to wake Darren, Dick shut the computer and pulled out his phone. He needed to make a call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder who Dick is calling? Hope you liked this chapter, I of course did edit a few things, mainly the location of where Darren and Dick's--as well as the rest of the Bats'--bedrooms were. I found a pretty awesome blueprint of Wayne Manor on a Tumblr account that I decided to go by, at least for the living quarters. This is kind of a filler chapter with exception to the nightmare section of the chapter. Let me know what you're thinking and feeling, there's only six more chapters left! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT if you have any questions, comments, and concerns


	33. Chapter 33

Darren woke to the sound of voices from down the hall. One was from Dick, the other a voice he didn't recognize. Darren wanted to care who it was, but at the moment he didn't really care all the same, he wanted to just melt into the mattress...the vivid memories from last night slightly mortifying as they replayed in his mind's eye as he rolled over onto his back staring blankly up at the ceiling. He wanted to be upset that he'd been caught having the nightmare and actually revealing what it was about, but all Darren felt was a strange kind of relief. Now someone knew, maybe it wouldn't be so bad anymore. Maybe the nightmares would go away or get better. Darren hated it, waking up gasping for breath as if it were his last few moments of life. His death had been abrupt. It was sudden and fast and short. But that feeling, the brief feeling of the air halting in his lungs…that had still been there. And afterward, after the maze with the Serum still searing through Darren's veins, he had felt the air stutter in his chest as it got harder and harder to breathe right...the tightness in his chest growing more and more constricting. He'd forced himself to sleep so that he could heal but he hadn't been healing, not until Calvin came with the Cure. It didn't get easy right away, it still hurt to pull air in and breathe it out, as if it were wrong of him to do so. As if his body recognized that he should be dead. Eventually, everything got set in order, but the memory still stayed with him. It made his heart race at the thought. With a grunt, Darren jerked himself into a sitting position shaking his head of the past and limped through the door and down the hall.

Darren passed Dick and another young man. He had black hair and blue-green eyes. He was taller than Dick too and looked pretty ticked off. Darren didn't know who he was, but Dick seemed to know so Darren didn't think too much of it as he stumble-limped by. As he started down the stairs Dick called after him,

"Darren don't you try and walk down those stairs without the crutches," Darren ignored him and got to the landing of the second floor, "I swear to God Darren—," he started,

"Fine! I won't walk on my foot!" he called up to his cousin. He kicked up into a handstand and started walking down the stairs that way,

"That's not what I meant…" Dick called down, a sigh in his voice as he probably shook his head in exasperation. Darren made it to the bottom and hurried into the dining room for breakfast. Tim was seated, typing something onto his computer while shoveling eggs into his mouth. Darren sat down across from him and nonchalantly listened in on Dick's conversation with the stranger upstairs,

 _"—Wait, was that the kid you were looking for all those weeks ago?"_ the stranger asked,

_"Yes. That's Darren. But listen, Jason, I need your help with something,"_

_"How the hell did he get hurt?"_

_"Not the reason I asked you to come over here,"_ Dick stated,

 _"You're lucky I even came here,"_ Jason muttered, Darren could hear the creak of the floorboards as the stranger, Jason, shifted his stance,

 _"Listen—"_ Dick started,

 _"Please tell me Bruce isn't preening him to be Robin number six!"_ the guy sneered as if he suddenly realized why Darren might've gotten his foot hurt, assuming it had to do with patrol and not a botched mugging,

 _"No! He's_ not," Dick stated, slight irritation in his tone, _"Things are a little more complex than that. We can't just throw him into the field,"_ he then launched into Darren's entire backstory for some reason. Darren, grimaced slightly annoyed by that invasion of privacy. He didn't understand why Dick would do that but didn't want to reveal he'd been listening in by gettign overtly angry about it. Not wanting to hear all that again because Darren…well… _lived_ through it, he turned his attention to the plate of food that Alfred placed before him,

"Did you know Jason was here?" he asked Tim. He wanted to learn more about this mysterious Jason who everyone mentioned in passing but never actually talked about when asked about him as well as why Dick thought it was perfectly normal to spew his entire background to the man. Tim looked up surprised, his computer forgotten,

"He's here? Like _here_ here?"

"Yeah. Like in the manor here," Darren stated, "Why is that a surprise? Isn't he… _family?"_ Darren didn't want to misread the situation regarding Jason and the rest of the Wayne household. Tim bit his lip as if deciding on how he should explain the situation,

"Well…he is, but he and Bruce don't necessarily get along,"

"Oh? What happened?"

"Uh…long story short, Bruce did something Jason wasn't happy about and he turned his back on literally all of us for a while—he's better about that now, he's less angry too. He kills now…well not everyone he faces, but the majority of them. He follows his own set of rules and standards,"

"Tt, it's more what father _didn't_ do that angered him," Damian stated, plopping down in a vacant chair looking cross about something. Darren couldn't help feeling that Bruce was being a bit of a hypocrite in saying that he wouldn't let Darren patrol with the others because he may kill people but lets his adoptive son swing around Gotham doing exactly that. Tim must've read his mind because he quickly stated,

"He doesn't condone what Jason does. It was worse a few years ago but now they came to an understanding. When he works with us, he won't kill,"

"So when he's alone he does what he wants?" Darren asked, narrowing his eyes,

"Well…the point is he doesn't usually kill anymore. It's only on occasion now…it's complicated. I'm not Jason so I don't really know how it works,"

"Okay, still sounds pretty hypocritical to me," Darren muttered, not completely understanding what was just explained. He put down his fork and massaged the bridge of his nose, lack of sleep was really catching up with him. He probably looked like shit. Flickers of the conversation from upstairs caught his attention again,

 _"So you're telling me that you let that kid die?"_ Jason snapped,

 _"I didn't—Jason, yes he died but he's a Talon now…and you, you understand that perspective in a way none of us can,"_ Dick seemed to be on the verge of pleading for something. There was a pause,

 _"The kid's having nightmares isn't he?"_ Darren, without meaning too, turned to look back at the staircase, surprised that Jason had guessed that…and slightly annoyed Dick even invited him over to discuss that with him,

"…What's up?" Tim asked, sounding slightly weirded out by his sudden fascination with the stairs,

"Nothing," Darren said, hopping up from his spot and marching towards and then up the stairs, leaving the rest of his meal untouched.

Darren hurried up the stairs until he reached where Dick and Jason were,

"Darren this is—," Dick started,

"Jason I know," Darren stated impatiently, "Dick didn't let me die, we were outnumbered…and my dad wasn't helping things," Jason looked over at Dick a shocked expression on his face,

"I thought he was downstairs,"

"I have enhanced hearing," Darren answered, "And perhaps you should have considered how I would feel about your preaching my entire backstory to a complete stranger," Darren felt uncertain about calling Dick out...his stomach roiled restlessly with nerves but Dick merely looked cowed by that statement,

"I'm sorry...you're right. I shouldn't have don't that...but, there's a reason for this I promise," Dick stated placatingly while Jason looked on amusement flicking across his hard features,

"Wow enhanced hearing huh? I wish I had been resurrected as a Talon then," Dick groaned placing a hand to his forehead, l

"This isn't funny," Dick stated, exasperated. Looking up to throw a tired glare at his supposedly adoptive brother,

"What, a resurrected guy can't have a sense of humor about death?" Darren frowned at Jason, he wasn't sure he was serious or not,

"You were—?" Darren started, uncertain as to whether he should state the implication of the man's statement out loud...whether it was actually true or a trick of some sort,

"C'mon kid. I think we have a lot to talk about," Jason said, nodding towards a door down the hall. He started towards it, not looking back to see if Darren was following him, "It's a one-time offer kid so either come over here with me or stay there. Either way, this is a waste of my time," Darren shot a look at Dick,

"Trust me Dare. He will help you hopefully _deal_ …with everything," Darren made a face still miffed by Dick revealing such a personal aspect of his past, but turned and followed the mysterious Jason down to the room at the end of the hall.

* * *

The room looked unused. It was like most of the other rooms in the manor. Large, a big bed in the middle of the room. A desk, some comfy chairs, and a bookshelf. Only the bookshelf seemed organized in some way and everything was extremely neat. There was an electric guitar in the corner of the room that looked unused as well. The comforter was red and stiff as if, like the rest of the room, it had been unused. Yet there was still a sense that this room _belonged_ to someone. Jason sat on the foot-board of the bed and eyed Darren with a piercing verdigris stare. Darren stood in the middle of the room, unsure whether to sit or stand. Dick seemed to think that Jason could help him, but Jason didn't appear to _want_ to help him. They stared one another down in silence for a moment...two killers uncertain of the other,

"You look like shit," Jason said finally. Darren scowled at him,

"What did you mean back there?" he demanded, ignoring the attempted slight

"Dark rings under your eyes. How much sleep have you gotten really? I bet you lied to Dick didn't you. Not even two hours a night?" Darren glared at Jason, shifting his feet uncomfortably looking anywhere but at those piercing, _knowing_ , blue-green eyes,

"Yeah. I was the same after I was resurrected," Jason stated. Darren looked up, raising an eyebrow skeptically,

"You…you were dead?" Darren asked, "was it a 'my heart stopped for a minute' kind of situation because I don't think those are as relatable,"

"Try one week…maybe more...maybe a whole ass month or so. I don't know," Jason muttered, rolling his eyes,

"How is that possible?"

"I'm not really sure. I woke up in my coffin. I had to dig my way out, and even afterward I don't really remember what happened," Jason said it so casually, and Darren wondered if he was like that sometimes. It was odd to see someone so unperturbed by their own resurrection, "I wandered around Gotham for a while,"

"Wandered?" Darren questioned, scrunching his eyebrows at that,

"I was kinda catatonic for a year or so. The League of Assassins found me and took me back to their base. Then Talia Al Ghul—Damian's mom—dumped me in the Lazarus Pit, think the fountain of youth but for dead or dying people. It rewired everything. I didn't fully remember the past year in Gotham, but some bits and pieces resurfaced in my sleep. I _did_ remember my death, and that appeared a lot when I tried to sleep," Jason didn't seem to care about talking to Darren about his death…he hadn't touched upon the how in the equation, but just saying it still caused a knot in Darren's stomach to tug uncomfortably. It was an entirely different experience, but still the same course of events. They were both dead, and then they weren't,

"How…how did you die?"

"I was beaten half to death by Joker. Then blown up," Jason fixed Darren with another stare, "How did _you_ die?"

"I thought Dick told you about it?" Darren asked. His death was not as intense and horrible as Jason's…Darren was surprised Jason was still in one piece—maybe he hadn't been—,

"True," Jason said, nodding his head at Darren, "But I want you to tell me,"

"What would that do?"

"Just do it," Jason snapped, rolling his eyes,

"Snapped neck," Darren stated, "Not on your level of gruesome I get it, I shouldn't even be having nightmares should I?" he barked that out bitterly, "I'm just _pathetic_ aren't I?" Jason raised an eyebrow,

"Dick told me about living with he Talons and William. About after you were resurrected too," Darren swallowed uncomfortably, "This isn't a competition. No death is pretty, and no death is easy. Whether it's of a loved one, a friend, or whether you experienced it yourself," Jason shifted on his perch. Darren wondered how Dick thought this would help him. He didn't feel like this was working, whatever _'this'_ was,

"The mind can't cope. The dreams always come. When you least expect it and God do they get worse when the day you die rolls around," Jason shook his head and glanced out the window. Darren started with surprise at the realization that he had a death day now…he had died six days before his birthday. It was an odd thought, and it sent chills down his spine, "They aren't just about how you died though are they?" Jason asked, looking back over at Darren "They're about where you went," it felt like the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. Darren especially didn't like this conversation now,

"I know. You don't want to talk about it…but it's true isn't it?" Darren swallowed uncomfortably, and it took a second to find his voice,

"It is…I…I don't know what that was but…yes, it's there,"

"It's a flicker," Jason agreed, "Nothing is ever really clear about there. Just a glimpse of light—,"

"—and a voice," Jason let out a sigh,

"And no one gets the coldness of it. It was stifling. It felt like you were trapped in a black cold room," Darren felt his breath catch at the mention of a cold dark room… _Blackout_. It suddenly felt as if the room was closing in on him. He took a deep breath,

"Stop talking about it," Darren muttered, "it's _nothing_. It might not have even been real," it could have just been a dream or a hallucination. A blurry waystation for people stuck in between life and death...something imagined to cope, to make sense of everything even if there was no sense to that grayness at all,

"It might not have been, but it still haunts you. I'll know eventually…you won't…or at least probably not anytime soon," Darren scowled at him again, his ageless future being thrown in his face—wonderful,

"How do I make it stop? Those dreams…all of them," Jason sighed again, tilting his head back as he closed his eyes as if exasperated,

"You want the truth?"

"Yes," Darren said bluntly,

"You can't," was the just as blunt reply,

_"What?"_

"You can't stop your dreams, and you can't stop sleeping. So you just have to learn to deal with it, learn to live with them," Jason's voice was calm and even but there was an underlying tone of sympathy...something Darren didn't want,

"Are you _kidding_ me? That's all you have to say?" Darren exclaimed, "That's not helpful. I can't just deal with them! I can't just live through this cesspit of nightmares and know that…that…that I'll actually wake up from them!"

"My point... _listen_...my point, is that now you aren't alone. I am here. I know what it's like and I know how to deal with them. I've dealt with them for years," the expectant ' _on my own'_ was left out but it was clear that was the case. Jason hadn't had anyone in the past especially throughout the time he'd been outcasted from his family, and Darren was lucky enough to have Jason at all,

"But what if it's not enough?" Darren asked, his voice quiet...hopeless,

"It will be enough. You've been through enough to know that you are stronger than fear. You should know that you're not _pathetic_ like your trainers have been telling you forever. You are just as strong as they are, maybe even stronger…who knows?" Jason shrugged, then smirked at Darren's expression, "you're not the only one who has dealt with shit like that. My father was shitty, but I learned to deal, I learned to survive through it. We're more alike, you and I, than you think. And not just because we both died. You're more than just the Talon they want you to be," with that Jason sprung to his feet and handed him a piece of paper. It was his phone number,

"Call if you can't sleep. You're lucky I'm giving you this at all. I don't give this out to anybody...not even my family so I have no idea how Dick managed to track me down," Jason let out an amused snort before his expression grew somber, "I didn't have anyone when I was having these nightmares. I don't think you should have to be alone either,"

"Thank you," Darren said hesitantly...uncertain by the show of support. Maybe he didn't exactly feel better but knowing that somebody understood and that they were willing to help…made things better, lighter. It maybe lessened the burden of that fear and the experience of death. Jason started to leave but stopped and turned to face Darren,

"You said your father wasn't much help before…who is your dad?"

"Slade Wilson," Darren stated. Jason's eyes widened in surprised before a crooked grin spread across his face,

"Well then, looks like we both have criminal dads too. You sure you're not my clone?" Darren rolled his eyes and started out of the room. Jason paused just at the threshold, throwing one last glance around the space a touch of nostalgia crossing his features before it was gone, washed away by gritted teeth and clenched jaw. Jason turned out of the room, his feet a steady rhythmic beat against the floorboards as he walked away.

Darren watched Jason go, unsure of how to feel about the attention, the understanding he'd been provided...it wasn't what he was used to. Perhaps Darren felt some sense of ease from the nightmares. Maybe things would be better. Maybe Darren could _make_ it better on his own, everyone else believed he could so why couldn't he? But feeling such a thing and enacting it...were two very different things. Hope was a dangerous thing, so Darren squashed it as quickly as he could...nothing was certain as long as the Court of Owls and the Powers were a threat.

Dick found Darren later on in his room. Dick looked kind of wary as he closed the door behind him leaning against it slightly uncertain...perhaps remembering how he overstepped earlier on,

"Look…Darren, I don't want you to feel you have to hide stuff from me," he started, "I know things have not been easy and we have kept you cooped up a bit…but we're here for you. All of us. You can come to us about anything," Darren nodded,

"I know…but the nightmares are different. They're…well…uh," Darren didn't really quite know how to form his thoughts into words,

"I know. They're not exactly my territory. It's different for you…and for Jason. That's why I asked him here and I know it was not right for me to tell him about you and your past I only wanted to help, I'm sorry. I knew Jason could offer better help and guidance than I ever could—even if he was probably an ass about it,"

"I understand...I just wasn't ready for everything to be out in the open yet again," Darren stated quietly picking at the threads of the comforter of the bed not looking Dick in the eye. His past was something he'd rather remain squashed as far back into the deepest corner of his mind—no matter how recent that past was—than be at the forefront of everything, "It wasn't exactly a pleasant talk and he basically said there wasn't anything to stop the dreams, but that there were ways to get through them. It made me feel less burdened by them...somewhat less alone," Darren tried not to squirm at revealing that fact, that truth even to himself. He was conflicted by Jason's intervention and how he should feel about it...how he wanted to feel about it,

"I'm glad that helped to some degree. We all have nightmares, and I don't want you to feel you have to hide that fact from everyone else. We know you're brave, and admitting to fear won't diminish that," Dick insisted meaningfully,

"Thank you Dick," Darren said. And maybe that time, Darren almost meant it. Maybe he can learn to open up. Perhaps that wasn't a weakness, perhaps that wasn't pathetic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter! With a featurette of Jason Todd. Do you guys think I portrayed him well? And what do you think of the conversation he and Darren had? Let me know what you think or if there are any questions, comments, or concerns you guys have. In other words: COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT!
> 
> I did edit this chapter a bit, I didn't like how Darren let Dick just get away with revealing his entire past to a stranger...so I changed it so Darren got a bit irritated by that and called Dick out on it. I also felt Darren was too responsive and too positive about all this, again he would still be uncertain about everything...where he stands, what his future will be, and whether he should trust the Bats at all. So I tweaked that a bit. I wrote Darren a little too positive and receptive in this first story than he should have been, but that changes as I 'learned' more about Darren's character and that knowledge is reflected in the later installments of this series (and in the edits I've made on this platform.) 
> 
> Speaking of which, only five chapters left! I'll start posting the second story in this series the Saturday after I post the last chapter, just to keep things rolling. Depending on how long that takes I may drag out the third installment a bit more to give myself time to write up the fourth.


	34. Chapter 34

"Master Darren would you please sit still?" Alfred chided, slightly exasperated. Darren slumped in his seat and let out an equally exasperated sigh. He couldn't help it. Alfred was trying to cut his hair, keyword _trying_. Every time the scissors came close to his ear he'd flinch at the sound it made. It was like when a bee flew bye really close and you hear the buzzing of their wings so you flinch away trying to avoid the little guy so you don't get stung. Alfred again tried to make a cut but Darren jerked to the side a little forcing Alfred to pull them back in to prevent an uneven or awkward cut, "You are worse than Master Richard ever was," Alfred stated stiffly,

"This is ridiculous, can't we do this another time?" Darren asked, he hated getting his hair cut…but he also hated it too long. It was quite a conundrum. He hated the process, his head being jerked in different directions. Sharp objects being placed near or on his head. It wasn't something he could control, and Darren didn't like that,

"Only if you _want_ to go the man bun route," Tim stated, playing around on his phone while waiting for his turn in the haircut chair, "Trust me, this is better than going to an actual hair place,"

"I shudder to think of anyone else attempting to cut master Darren's hair," Alfred muttered from behind him,

"Ugh, _fine_ ," Darren grumbled, sitting up straighter and forcing himself to remain still. Alfred started forward again, ready to finally cut his hair when a noise from outside caught Darren's attention and he jerked his head towards the window. The metal of the scissors lightly scraped the side of his head and he jerked away again, this time falling out of the chair. Tim let out a laugh,

"This is so entertaining,"

"Shut up," Darren growled, scrambling to his feet, "There was a loud noise outside," 

"I thought you could control your hearing," Tim stated as Darren got back in the chair,

"Yeah I can but sometimes things just cut through unintentionally," Darren replied shrugging,

"Don't do that," Alfred stated firmly, gently placing his hands on his shoulders to indicate what he _didn't_ want Darren doing,

"Sorry,"

"Here, try this," Tim stated, tossing him a plastic mess of colorful tangles,

"What is it?" Darren asked, examining the thing, letting the material slink through his fingers a few times,

"It's a fidget toy,"

"What do you do with it?"

"It's something to focus on for wandering minds and distractible people," Tim stated, "It used to be Dick's from when he was little," Darren unwound the toy until it was just a circle of colorful plastic with curves that made it look a little odd. The pieces were connected but could shift their position and orientation. Curious, Darren twisted the pieces until it formed a spring-like shape. With a small grin, Darren started shifting and moving the pieces into all sorts of different directions and shapes, determined to find them all. Alfred made a little 'humph' sound of approval, or perhaps relief, before starting to cut his hair again.

The fidget toy worked, Darren's attention was definitely captured. The little coil of plastic was really fun and it really pulled his focus away from the sharp pair of scissors hovering right near his head. No sound cut in and his mind didn't wander. Eventually, Darren's hair was cut and finished. It was weird whenever he got his hair cut, he didn't like the feel afterward but also disliked the tickle of it on the back of his neck. Darren's hatred for getting his hair cut was rampant, so he put it off for as long as he could. The only issue was it was hard to fight with hair swinging in your face,

"So who cut your hair when you were with the Talons?" Tim asked rather nonchalantly. Darren, who had taken Tim's old spot on one of the little comfy, rolly foot things paused in his fiddling with the fidget toy. He shrugged,

"William did it. Or one of the other Talons,"

"Fun," Tim deadpanned,

"Loads," Darren agreed with a bitter frown on his face. They did it with knives rather than scissors. He never knew why and never thought to ask...perhaps more accurately, Darren couldn't work up the courage to ask why. Maybe the Talon's had more dexterity and accuracy with knives than scissors, Darren didn't know. But on more than one occasion the knife would cut their scalp…and that was never fun. Darren quickly turned his attention back to the toy pushing thoughts of the Nest far far away, "Are there different versions of these things?"

"I'm sure we can find more," Tim stated laughing slightly, "Oh yeah. Bruce wanted me to tell you that your textbooks came in," Darren groaned and flopped backward so he was arched over the ottoman,

"Noooo," he groaned, "I don't want to start school again. And start it _alone_ ,"

"Well we can't exactly have you around other kids in a building…let alone a classroom," Tim stated logically,

"I know," Darren muttered, throwing Tim a slight glare,

"Besides, you get to do your work on your own time. I wish I could do that,"

"You could have been homeschooled. Then we could be homeschooled together and at least have something entertaining,"

"Well, I actually like school, and I'm on the lacrosse team so they'd be really bummed if I quit just so you can have some company," Tim stated. Darren rolled his eyes as Titus moseyed over to them. He nudged Darren's knee with his nose,

"Titus will keep you company," Tim promised. Darren sat up and grabbed a bouncy ball from an end table,

"Fetch," he called tossing the ball down the adjacent hallway. Titus leapt up with an excited bark and scampered after the ball,

"Master Darren—," Alfred started, his attention still on Tim's hair only to be interrupted by a loud crash from somewhere in the manor, "—No fetch in the house," came the tired and mournful continuation of Alfred's warning. Darren grimaced,

"Sorry," Darren drawled as he stood and grabbed a broom from a nearby closet before he started to search the large house for whatever Titus, the ball, or both broke.

* * *

Darren couldn't sleep. Not for lack of trying, his eyes just wouldn't close. Along with the constant nightmares, it took Darren hours to even fall asleep. He should probably mention this to Dr. Leslie, she had told him to if the sleeplessness continued…but at the same time Darren really just didn't want to...or he couldn't...or both. He'd been trained to stay awake for days, and perhaps that is what added on to his sleeping problems, but Darren also knew internally that wasn't the case at all. He just wouldn't and couldn't sleep. Darren groaned and shifted onto his side, glancing at the stack of letters still on his nightstand. He'd been working through them, deciphering the twisting letters of cursive. It was slow going but his mother's words were a comfort to read.

Darren sat up, reaching for the pile when a creak from outside caused him to freeze. It didn't sound like the trees outside, and it wasn't windy enough for them to even make such a sound. He was on immediate alert and leapt out of bed, reaching underneath one of the floorboards for the dual blades his father had gotten him. They glinted brightly in the moonlight…another thing that might be keeping him awake, he'll have to close the curtains after he deals with whoever this was. Darren considered it being his father again as he inched toward the balcony doors, but that didn't seem likely. His dad had been MIA for the past few days since Dick had barged in the room while they were talking and Darren didn't know what to make of it.

When he reached the doors, Darren flung them open as fast as a viper, blades drawn, ignoring the icy air as it blew through his newly cut hair. A Talon stood on the railing of this balcony and Darren instantly stepped forward to attack but stopped at seeing who the Talon was,

"Malik?" he asked, surprised,

"Novice, you look alive," he stated dully. As if he were disappointed he wasn't still writhing in agony on the bed from his old wounds,

"What are you doing here?" Darren demanded, "They sent you to kill me didn't they?" Malik tilted his head like a slightly confused cat,

"Why would they want you dead?" he asked,

"I couldn't even list all the reasons they could possibly want me dead, we'd be here for hours," Darren stated, refusing to shiver from the cold,

"Let's take this conversation inside, you'll freeze out here," Darren glowered at Malik. He wore the Talon armor which was insulated and heated to protect Talons from the cold,

"Why should I trust you. You're one of _them_ ,"

"And _you're_ one of _us_. You can't possibly think you'll be here forever…they will all eventually die, and we'll be all you have left," Darren grimaced at the thought,

"That's decades away, and I want no part in the Court's operations,"

"Good," Malik said, "I'd be disappointed if you gave in so easily after all that effort to escape it," now it was Darren's turn to tilt his head in confusion,

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying let us go inside, now. Unless you want really unwanted eyes and ears involved in this conversation," Malik stated. Darren stared him down levelly before putting his weapons down and retreating inside. Malik followed and closed the doors firmly behind him,

"They want you back and they also want to kill you...the debate is heated on which action they will pursue. Not only have you foiled their future plans but you also killed many of their own members, Talon and Owl alike," Malik stared at him with a hint of a scowl. Darren wondered how many friends of Malik's he'd killed. He wanted to feel guilty about it but couldn't bring himself to do so. Malik was a part of an organization trying to capture or kill him, "You have more time on your side because of their indecisiveness. They haven't decided if they want to burn you yet or not. More importantly, they fear you,"

"They fear _me?"_ Darren echoed, surprised,

"Well, maybe not _fear_ per se…but they don't like rogues. They aren't usually opposed by their own and don't know how to handle it when they are,"

"I thought that's why the Serum was invented…for rogue Talons,"

"It was invented for _misbehaving_ Talons, and yes for any traitors or potential traitors they may encounter…but they didn't intend for that to be the case for anyone,"

"Until Calvin," Darren murmured,

"And until you,"

"How is Calvin?" Darren asked, "and how did you tell him about me? How did you know where he was…and why didn't you tell the Court?" Malik shook his head like he couldn't believe him,

"How do you think Calvin escaped?" Malik growled, "I _helped_ him," Darren blinked at him,

"I thought you liked the Court?" It was a stupid thing to say, and Darren realized it immediately after...but most Talons were content with their lives or at least felt indepted to the people who gave them a near immortal life in return for service as assassins,

" _Like?_ Does anyone truly 'like' being forced into an organization of assassins or being killed because you refuse? And being forced to decide as a young child?"

"Fair point," Darren muttered,

"I _like_ being a Talon. The strength, speed, the near immortality. I do not especially like working for the Court. But the process of becoming a Talon keeps us in a life debt to them. Without them we wouldn't be nearly immortal, or powerful…or have a purpose. It is all I have," the Court is all that there is for some a depressing realization which brought Asher to Darren's mind and a ripple of unease and guilt shudder through him,

"And yet you still kill for them?" Darren questioned, pushing Asher to the back of his mind...as much as he cared for his only friend in the world the pain of what happened was still too fresh to ignore or be effective when caught in the memory of his friend's death,

"It's a debt," Malik shrugged as if that explained everything. Maybe it was just Darren, but he didn't see it that way. He chose to remain quiet about that though,

"What about me…why heal me? What about Calvin…why help us escape the Court?"

"I owed Calvin. He saved my life a few years ago. He wanted to leave and so I helped him. A Talon never leads a happy life…but you two are the first to break away from the life of a Talon,"

"And me?" Darren demanded, raising a brow in questioned,

"Originally I assisted you because Calvin asked me too. I guess he felt you two had bonded, you had similar wishes, dreams, and mindsets. But then I saw that the Court took more from you than any member of the Court. Sure almost every recruit has lost a loved one because of circumstance or the Court…but you lost control of your future—you never wanted this, even when they tried to convince you it was your only choice—, you were forced to live with despicable people…and you were tortured for trying to have a mind of your own, and for trying to make your own choices in life. You were the ace up their sleeve and they wanted a machine, not a person," Darren winced at that memory, a hand clamping on to his upper arm unintentionally, "You were braver than I ever was, and so I decided to assist you by getting through to Calvin so he can give you the cure and save your life,"

"Why didn't you leave too?" Darren questioned, forcing his arm to drop back to his side,

"I have decided to stay to try and convince others to do the same…perhaps I do like being a Talon, but I don't like being forced to kill others who don't deserve it. Perhaps it is a small feat, but it may also make a significant difference,"

"That's a very dangerous thing to do," Darren stated,

"Our lives revolve around danger. It doesn't concern me,"

"It concerns me," Darren muttered, "I don't think I could ever face them again. If I go back there…I don't think I could still be myself. I've never feared anything like I fear the Court now," he'd never said that out loud. But he feared it all. He feared returning if he had to, he feared living with the Powers…he felt it down to his core like an unwanted set of cancerous cells. Darren hated fear. Most emotions were controllable. They had been before he had run away and started everything. Now, they leapt up at random times. Even the good emotions had felt more muted back at the Nest. And now it felt like everything was on overdrive whenever one leapt up and Darren didn't know what to do or how to react. It used to be easier to hide everything. He still managed, but it was strange and sometimes he didn't want to hide how he felt around the others in Wayne Manor, he was beginning to feel safe here. For the first time in a while, Darren was starting to at home,

"You shouldn't be afraid. You aren't just a Talon or their soldier. You have Mirakuru too, and that makes you different from any other Talon before you. The reason they wanted a machine to use as they wished instead of any old Talon is that you're different from us, and that's a good thing. You can do things no one in the Court will expect," Darren knew Malik was right. Tim had mentioned something like that.

Mirakuru didn't just enhance strength, healing, or the senses, it also enhanced the reaction time of the person's brain. It allowed Darren's father, and by logical assuption Darren as well, to automatically adapt to any environment, situation, or enemy. Darren could, in theory, basically survive anything, and with the Electrum, that aspect was probably doubled. Additionally, Tim stated that his dad possesses a precognitive sense that lets him see into the immediate future. Which allowed him to react to any oncoming attacks against him and to counter them accordingly. If his father had that ability from the Mirakuru…who's to say Darren didn't as well. Darren thought back to the mugger incident, and to how everything seemed to be slowed down…like he could see what was going to happen seconds before it did. He was powerful…he hadn't seen it before, he hadn't felt like that before.

Darren shouldn't feel anything remotely close to fear. He was stronger and more resilient than they would ever be. Perhaps he never wanted to be a Talon…but all at once Darren was confronted with the realization that he was stronger, faster, more agile, and healed at a more incredible rate than any other person on earth—except maybe other metas. It was a fact that he knew for a while, but he'd been afraid of what that meant. He feared the divide it drew between him and the world around him. Yet now after living at the manor with the Waynes and speaking with his father…he knew there were many roads to take. And one thing was clear for everyone in his family, you make that choice yourself and no one else.

There would be no going back to the Nest, Darren wouldn't let them use him for whatever plan they needed him for. He wouldn't allow it. He'd do whatever it took to prevent that from happening…and he knew that he wanted to use his abilities for something good. Darren wanted to become something else. Not just a Talon, not just an assassin or a soldier…he wanted to be a hero. Maybe Darren was different from the rest of the Bats, but it was his choice and it was what he wanted,

"You're right," Darren stated, "But that still doesn't explain why you're here, right now,"

"I wanted you to know that I am on your side, even if I do still work alongside the Court. I can provide you with more of the Cure for if you ever encounter another less friendly Talon…and there will be many out looking for you. Either to kill you or drag you back…whichever comes first,"

"They seem very indecisive on that matter," Darren stated dryly,

"Even so, they will be after you,"

"Let them come," Darren growled. A smirk graced Malik's face,

"I can also tell you what they are planning if I am ever graced with that information. And you, little assassin, can use that to your advantage,"

"Perhaps not an assassin," Darren muttered. He did still worried about the Court and what they could do to him if they ever got their hands on him again—especially William—Darren suppressed a shudder at the thought of his great-grandfather…but he knew that he could still fight back as well. He'll always fight back, he'd been trained for survival…to _win_ ,

"You can't escape that aspect of yourself, no matter how hard you try," Malik stated, almost kindly,

"Watch me,"

"Perhaps you're still a bit naive," Malik stated, slightly disappointed,

"I won't kill again. I am making that a part of who I am,"

"You can try, but I wouldn't count on it," Malik said, "Do you accept my help?"

"Of course. I do know when I need it,"

"You are such a liar Crowne," Malik stated,

"Hey, that's the first time you didn't call me Novice!" Darren cried, a smirk on his face,

"Don't get used to it… _Novice_ ," Malik sneered, "I must get on with my hunt, but if you should need my assistance. Stab this on the stone railing," he held out a dagger which Darren took before twirling it in his hand,

"Really? No cell phone number?" Darren asked, making a face. Malik rolled his eyes and shook his head before turning to leave,

"And if it turns out _you_ are the liar Malik, I'll make you regret it," that was a promise. Malik paused in his movement, and turned back to face him,

"I wouldn't expect anything less from a Talon," Darren ignored that comment,

"Do you think it's possible?" he asked instead,

"What is?"

"That you'll find others who want to be freed from the Court?"

"I do not know. But I think anything is possible at this point,"

"That's strangely optimistic of you Malik," Darren mused, crossing his arms with a slight yet amused grin on his face,

"As I said, don't get used to it," Malik monotoned before leaping off into the night. Darren looked down at the dagger in his hand before tossing it on his bed and walking out the doorway. His foot had healed pretty much. Alfred had taken out the stitches a few hours ago and it only ached dully now. He went down the stairs and to Bruce's office. The light was on, shining through the bottom of the door. Without knocking he pushed the door open,

"Bruce," he stated, taking in the piles of papers on his desk and a slight glare in the older man's eyes at his intrusion. Unperturbed yet still slightly sheepish, Darren continued, "I want to fight. I want to go on patrol. I want to do what you guys do," Bruce frowned, putting down the ballpoint pen he held, his attention now on Darren,

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure,"

"You cannot kill,"

"I don't want to,"

"You'll have to prove that to me," Bruce stated, his tone a tad icier than normal and his dark stormy grey gaze rather piercing,

"I will," Darren promised,

"You'll have to make a name for yourself,"

"I think I'll take an old one," Darren replied, "When do we start?"

"When I say we do," Darren didn't like that answer, it was along the same lines as _'no,_ '

"You don't think I can do it?" He demanded,

"I don't think you're ready. You're just getting used to living here, I don't want to throw you back into the middle of everything,"

"You can't know that. You barely know _me_ ,"

"I do know that the Court will be in a more able position to get at you if you're with us at night. You can't fall back on what you know when you're with us and they will pull you down to their methods...to their level...and we cannot have that in the field not with such a delicate trust between us vigilantes and the public as well as the police,"

"I'll learn," Darren insisted,

"And we will start when I say we will," Darren glowered but nodded, recognizing this wasn't a matter to push...though he wished it didn't feel so much like a defeat. Still he started to back out of the room,

"Uh…sorry for barging in I guess…" Darren muttered, trying to at least mend the impulsive action that drove him to confront Bruce about nighttime duties. Bruce offered him a small smile that didn't mask the calculating gaze the older man threw Darren's way as he firmly closed the door. Darren then stumbled up the stairs and into bed, his weapons still on top of the covers before tumbling into a fitfully sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like this chapter! I'm excited for you guys to get to the start of the next story, a lot more happens there and things pick up pace a lot more than they do in this first story. As always, please please please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT, I do really love hearing from you guys. Anything is on the table for comments, good or bad!
> 
> I tend to forget what these chapters are about because I wrote them so long ago so when I get to reposting them here I'm like...hmmm what was the point of this again or what is this sentence trying to say? That happened a few times in this chapter, but I hopefully fixed everything to make a bit more sense and to align more with Darren's character.


	35. Chapter 35

Darren jerked awake, his heart hammering in his chest as the remnants of a nightmare faded into nothingness of his mind. Even with no memory of the dream, Darren felt the fear it brought, the constriction in his chest that made him feel slightly sick. A searing flash of anger joined the mix as well, writhing and clawing uncomfortably within his gut. Why when he had felt so sure of himself and his own strength did Darren suddenly feel just as powerless and weak as before. How could he, after talking with Malik, still be feeling this way. Darren despised it, this feeling. That _feeling_ , that congealed uncertain and writhing... _intense_...mess of emotions that Darren never had to face before, or rather that he didn't want to deal with. It had never been like this before, there hadn't been such weight with what he felt...he'd never felt overwhelmed by this kind of thing before. _Or have you?_ A voice whispered in the back of his mind. Darren growled into the darkness before lurching from the bed.

Glancing at the clock Darren saw that it was just five o'clock. Everyone would still be asleep, just getting in from patrol a few hours before. He'd gotten a measly two hours of sleep after lying awake unable to even shut his eyes and felt anything but rested. Even so, the knot in Darren's chest wouldn't smooth over, he couldn't just lie down or he'd think and think and think about what that feeling meant, and what it was from and Darren did not want another nightmare to surface because of it. Darren glanced at the phone on his bedside table. Briefly wondering if it was worth it to call Jason…but decided against it. Jason would be asleep and he'd be annoyed if Darren woke him besides...Darren felt too wary of the result to try such a thing. He instead crept silently from his room and down the stairs, careful not to make a sound…the others might be asleep but he didn't know about Alfred…and disappeared through the grandfather clock to the Cave below.

Maybe Darren technically wasn't allowed down here without supervision. But he needed a place to calm himself. He needed to do something, to _move_...to feel _alive_. Darren didn't like to sit idle when something bothered him. He needed something familiar. Darren chose a punching bag in the corner of one of the training rooms and without wrapping his hands—he never really did so since becoming a Talon, it wasn't like broken hands, torn knuckles and ligaments did anything to hinder his fighting anymore—started tearing away at the bag.

It felt good to let out some energy. To punch through his frustrations and to just move about. It felt like Darren was in control again, that what he felt was fading away. Like it usually did, like it used to...though not as easily. Something was tugging at Darren's attention. Something was bothering him and he didn't know what it was. It lurked in the back of Darren's subconscious waiting to creep out before he could stop it. Like he couldn't control everything he once did or thought he could. Even so, at least Darren felt somewhat better now...less like he was wavering on the edge of a knife-edge; more balanced...surefooted. Preferable to something so untethered as before.

* * *

Darren didn't know how long he'd been down there. But he could see the split skin on his knuckles and knew he'd been down in the Cave for a long while. Still, Darren continued wailing on the punching bag as it wobbled and moved across the room. Until the white layered foam from the inside blew out after every punch. Darren kept at it until his wrist rolled when he punched and a small cracking noise was heard. With a frustrated huff of air Darren wrenched the bone in his wrist forcefully back into place—ignoring the small jolting twitch that ran up his arm as he did so—and moved to strike again when a voice from behind him caused him to pause mid-strike,

"Darren? What are you doing down here?" It was from Tim. Darren turned to face him, wringing out his hands as he did so,

"I—I couldn't sleep," he mumbled, not looking quite at Tim where he stood by the entrance of the Batcave's training area...Darren hadn't realized how much he'd moved since starting this impromptu 'training' session,

"How long have you been down here?" Tim asked quizzically, 

"I dunno. What time is it?"

"Nine," Darren had been down there for four hours. It felt like a blur, like no time at all had passed,

"I've been down here a while then," was Darren's stilted reply. He left it at that and could feel that heaviness of Tim's level stare bearing into his skull. As if Tim was trying to pick out the lie from that once simple phrase,

"Do you want to talk about it?" Tim finally questioned,

"No," Darren answered tersely, turning on his heel to walk back to the main room of the Cave,

"Are you sure you're okay," Tim followed him, right on his heels a note of worry in his tone,

"I'm fine Tim," Darren muttered quietly,

"You don't look fine," Darren grimaced and glanced at the computer screen to see a disheveled dirty blonde-haired boy blink back at him. With extremely tired eyes, they appeared almost hollow black pits in the computer console. Darren jerked back away from the view looking quickly anywhere but at the barest hint of his own reflection...not wanting to see such a huanting stare levelling back at him,

"I just feel dizzy. That's all" he said finally, wavering slightly where he stood, feeling an unreasonable rush settling over him as the world spun unevenly on its axis,

"When was the last time you ate?" Tim mused, his eyebrows drawing together in thought,

"Dinner," Darren replied. He couldn't help but feel that he should talk to Tim or someone about the nightmare, at least to ease the mess of nerves. But Darren's mind was already slightly eased from the nightmare by the training. And Darren didn't even know what it was about, or what was bothering so deeply that it overshadowed the nightmares about his own death. He ignored the desire to talk about it and instead focused on Tim, who looked slightly appalled he hadn't come up to eat yet,

"Darren. That was almost fourteen hours ago. And you just worked out…you need to eat!" Tim exclaimed, "You basically have an _inhuman_ metabolism," 

"Yeah…I figured that was the problem," Darren stated tiredly, starting forward unsteadily as he and Tim hurried upstairs for breakfast.

Since Alfred was cooking for Thanksgiving dinner, Darren, in an effort to stay out of his hair stumbled over to the couch and curled up on it after eating. Willing himself to sleep. Darren needed it, whether or not he wanted to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry guys! I had a friend emergency that turned into us just spending the whole day together but which also meant that I totally forget about posting this chapter. So here it is now, better late than never! I hope you like it and I apologize again because it is somewhat of a throwaway chapter. I know it seems that perhaps this story is winding down a bit too much but it's worth it to get to the second part of this series, as I've mentioned, things really do pick up and rather quickly right from the first few chapters. So stick with it!
> 
> And PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT!!!


	36. Chapter 36

Darren was shaken awake by Dick. He was extremely groggy but relatively well-rested,

"Everyone will be here in a few hours. You should get up so you're not too tired still when they do. You also might want to change clothes," Dick stated. Darren gave him a tired glare but hurried upstairs and changed into something nicer for dinner. He'd slept for quite a while which was pretty good for him. Once he came downstairs Dick approached him, a frown on his face,

"Tim said you didn't sleep well last night," Darren glared in the direction of the other teen,

"Tattle," he muttered, "It was nothing,"

"No, it wasn't. Something was clearly bothering you,"

"I don't remember," Darren admitted, or perhaps lied, even he wasn't quite sure which it was, "I was just riled up by...something. I had to let some energy out,"

"Was it a bad dream?" Darren didn't answer, though he could hear the creak of his teeth as he clenched them together. Not necessarily irritated by Dick's concern, more so by his pestering, "Why didn't you talk to Jason about it?" Dick continued, oblivious to Darren's consternation. Darren merely shrugged discomfort threaded within his frame,

"I'm used to handling my own problems," he said finally,

"I know it's difficult to come to terms with, but you don't have to shoulder everything yourself. We're here for you now," Dick placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze,

"Yeah but for how long?" Darren blurted out. Dick looked at him surprised, Darren stared back at his cousin with an equally surprised expression. He hadn't meant to say that, he just blurted it out. Yet just by uttering that one sentence, the overall problem that had been plaguing him had been revealed. Malik's words played back in his head _You can't possibly think you'll be here forever…they will all eventually die, and we'll be all you have left._ Jason had brought it up more subtly when he and Darren were talking. It must have stuck with Darren ever since. That had been what was bothering him so deeply. More so than anything else caused by his newfound and unwanted status by the Court. Darren didn't want to be alone. Even if that was years and years away. It still flitted there in the back of his consciousness, "N-never mind," Darren muttered, shrugging off Dick's hand and slinking over to the couch to watch TV with Tim. Dick stared after him, a slightly deeper frown on his face. Darren couldn't help but feel guilty for contributing to such a degree of frowning...and concern.

Darren avoided Dick for the remainder of the time before everyone came for dinner. He mindlessly stared at the TV, not even taking in what was being displayed. Eventually, Dick would corner him and he'd have to explain everything. Perhaps not that Malik had visited, but the overall issue of why Darre said what he had. The knowledge that he would eventually stop aging entirely filled him with some level of worry. Not only would that cause some confusion and suspicion by everyone in Gotham, but it would leave Darren defenseless from the Talons. He wouldn't be able to been seen in public when that happened, which will eventually lead to the people in the city forgetting him. Then Darren would be easy pickings for Talons sent by the Owls. He'd like to think he could defend himself from them all, but an entire organization of assassins after him on his own? No, Darren wouldn't last a week…that is only if they don't decide he wasn't worth their efforts. Why did Darren have to think about this now? Why did this worry him so adamantly? Why couldn't he enjoy the people around him in the present only think of the inevitable future dogging him? The ding of the doorbell caused him to jerk in surprise, not expecting such a loud noise.

Now he had to deal with another problem: meeting new people. With a sigh, Darren stood and followed Tim and the others to the entryway. He had his own insecurity in meeting the Commissioner for the first time. And Barbara and Stephanie. But he had been told he was being silly, they were allies and more importantly to the rest of the Bats essentially family. Darren only wished he felt the same way...his only reaction with facing new individuals was suspicion. Darren saw the Commissioner first. He was an older man. With greying fiery red hair and light blue eyes framed with glasses. He had a mustache too, which covered the upper half of his lips. His face was lined and Darren could see every laugh, smile, and worry line etched into his face. When he saw Darren a smile broke out on his face, Darren didn't exactly know why Jim Gordon was so pleased to see him, but that wasn't necessarily the worst reaction he'd ever received,

"Hello, you must be Darren. I'm James Gordon. This is my daughter Barbara. It is nice to finally meet you," he shook Darren's hand firmly and Barbara did the same. She had the same fiery hair but bright green eyes instead,

"Dick has been talking nonstop about you, and it is really great to meet you in person,"

"Wish I could say the same, but the only thing I heard was that you were Dick's girlfriend,"

"Is this where you tell me if I break his heart you'll hunt me down and destroy me?" Barbara asked,

"No, I figured I should threaten Dick with that, but you seem to be quite capable of doing that yourself," Darren replied. They laughed, "I only know that you're the Commissioner," he said to her father,

"Not right now. I am only James Gordon. I leave my badge at home for holidays like this,"

"Noted Mr. Gordon," Darren stated. He was beginning to think that perhaps meeting new people wouldn't be so hard,

"Call me Jim," was his reply as he moved to say hello to Dick and Tim. Stephanie meandered over to meet Darren as well,

"I hope you're hungry, I brought pecan pie,"

"I've never had that before," Darren stated, a slight grin on his face,

"I thought so, but Tim might've told me that. What better time than now to try it?" she replied a large smile on her face. Stephanie had light blonde hair and light brown eyes. She seemed to have bubbly energy and Darren couldn't help but send another small smile in reply.

Everyone meandered over to the living room. It was odd being with a large group of people and have no fights ever break out. He had seen Tim and Damian break out into a fight or two, but that had been in a more private setting. Darren kept glancing around the room waiting for glasses to start flying around and people start launching themselves at each other fighting over the remote. But that didn't happen. Light conversation and the occasional tinkling laugh were the only echoes throughout the room. The murmuring of voices was almost calming. It was welcoming. Such ambiance seemed to say _'this is what family was like.'_ Dick and Barbara were sitting close on the end of the couch, talking animately to each other. A wide smile on both their faces. Bruce and Jim were talking seriously near the fireplace, but both had slight smiles on their faces as they also caught up their week's events. Tim and Stephanie were in their own corner of the couch whispering to each other, Stephanie occasionally tilting her head back to laugh at something Tim said. Damian was Damian and spent his time in the corner of the L shaped couch, his earbuds jammed in and ignoring everyone.

Darren didn't mind sitting on his own. In fact, he liked just seeing everyone, happy in their own right, enjoying each other's company. It felt familiar, even if he'd only been living here a few weeks and had just met these people. It was quiet, but loud all the same. Spacious but close-knit as well. Distanced, but filled with a sense of closeness. It worked. But Darren couldn't help but imagine a time when it would be quiet, cold, and dark. When the voices would just be echoes of ghosts from the past. When he was the only one in the room left standing.

His shoulders slumped, Darren hated to think like that. He hated to even consider that. But he could feel his mind wander back to that thought. That problem. That one concern that while so distant was so very real. With a frown, Darren got up from his seat and left the room. He couldn't be the one to ruin the moment. He couldn't let them see him upset for no reason. So he took himself out of the room and hurried upstairs to his bedroom. Let them enjoy their togetherness, he'll come down for dinner time.

* * *

Darren had flung himself over the comforter of his bed, with his eyes closed. Perhaps he was still overtired. Maybe if he took a nap he'd stop thinking of all these people as already dead and buried leaving him alone. It was a strange concept to think of, that one day Dick would be grey and wrinkled while he remained the same. It was odd to think that Damian, who was younger than him, would one day surpass him in height, age, and wrinkled skin. It was terrible to think of that and to worry mostly only about himself…but at this point, he couldn't imagine himself alone. He _didn't_ want to. He _didn't_ want that to _happen_. And yet there was nothing he could do, the curse of being a Talon...meant that Darren would one day be alone, live alone, endure life alone... _again_.

A light knock on his door caused him to snap his eyes open. He let out a sigh and called out lightly,

"Go away Dick," the doorknob turned and Darren growled and sat up snapping, "I thought I said to go away—," only to cut himself off at seeing Barbara standing in the doorway. He blanched slightly, he hadn't meant to be rude to her, a guest and a pseudo member of the family,

"I—ah—sorry," he mumbled, looking down at the floorboards,

"It's alright," Barbara said, "Dick had wanted to come up here, but I figured he had already tried to get you to talk about what's on your mind,"

"How do you know about that?" Darren asked, looking up and raising an eyebrow,

"You might not have caught on, but he's been literally talking nonstop about you for weeks," she said with a slight smirk on her face, "Including when he was worried about you,"

"Oh…sorry you had to deal with that,"

"It's fine. He's just happy…no, that's not the right word, he's _ecstatic_ to have found you,"

"I know…and I'm glad he's happy," Darren stated. Barbara frowned slightly as she closed the door behind her,

"Are you… _not_ happy?" she asked,

"No…I am...I think. I mean, Trust me _I am…"_

"But…?"

"It's nothing…it's stupid," Darren stated, glaring at nothing in particular,

"If something's bothering you is not stupid," Barbara stated, "Talk to me," she crossed the room and sat down next to him on the bed, "Talk to someone who doesn't really know you all that well, maybe that will be more help than someone who does," Darren was silent for a bit, but Barbara didn't seem to mind and he appreciated that. He knew from the others that she had a photographic memory and that she was Batgirl in addition to the daughter of the Commissioner and Dick's girlfriend. She seemed nice and genuine too, that was hard to come by in any kind of person. Darren immediately felt bad for thinking about her being dead, especially because of how much Dick cared for her and how much her father loved her. He could see it. He was pretty good at reading people. He wasn't at Dick's level, but Darren saw enough when he needed to.

Darren shifted himself to face her and took a deep breath before starting to speak,

"Well…I…since I'm a Talon," he began, Barbara nodded encouragingly, "I…don't exactly age normally,"

"I know. You only age until you're in your mid to late twenties then aging is at a virtual standstill," she stated, she then frowned, "Is that what's bothering you?"

"No…it's the fact that you guys don't age the same way as I do," he replied,

"Oh," she said, then, "oh," she blinked in understanding before her expression filled with such a level of sympathy and empathy that it was slightly overwhelming. Darren wasn't expecting such a reaction, should he be more worried about this?

"Oh Darren," she stated,

"I know, it's stupid," he said looking away again,

"It's not stupid," Barbara stated, "I don't think the concept of you not aging while we do would register as stupid for anyone," Darren knew one person who would definitely think it was stupid but he kept that to himself,

"I…I've always known that I wouldn't age as normal people do, and I knew that you would all… _eventually_ …die. But I never thought about the-the… afterward aspect until last night and now," he mumbled it all fast but Barbara nodded in understanding, "I…I don't want to be alone," he could feel that upsetting and uncomfortable feeling rising in his chest and he forced it down. It wasn't fair to break down in front of Barbara, not when she was trying to make him feel better,

"It's okay to be afraid. Fear is sometimes a good thing. It helps people survive. And you will not be alone. Not for a very long time…and even when that happens there are others who will be there for you,"

"Yeah…Calvin would still be around," Darren muttered, _I hope,_ he added in his head,

"And you will still have family alive," Barbara stated, "I mean, not anytime soon and as far as I know, I don't think I'm going to my grave kidless," Darren blushed at that and sputtered out,

"Well…I mean…I never thought of that…and I wouldn't want to drag your or anyone else's potential kids into this," Barbara let out a chuckle,

"My point is that there is still _so_ much time between then and now. I know it will always be in the back of your mind, but try and focus on the now. You have us here now… _all_ of us," she reached over and placed her hand on top of his and gave it a light squeeze. Darren wanted to pull his hand away but forced himself not to. He wasn't that comfortable with physical contact, he was better about it now but it was still something he didn't really like. It wasn't something he was used to,

"Alright…I will. You are very right," lightly pulling his hand out of her's,

"I always am,"

"Batman and now you, apparently love saying that," Barbara laughed again,

"Better?" she asked,

"Better," Darren replied, and he did feel better. It will always be a painful thing to think about, but he needed to be reminded that that won't happen now, there are people there for him now and there will be someone in the future there for him as well,

"Let's go back downstairs for dinner then," she stated, "I'm starving," she stood and started heading for the door,

"Barbara?" Darren called, she stopped and looked back at him, "Thanks," she smiled at him and he hurried to follow her back downstairs.

* * *

Everyone was finally sated at the table. The food laid out on platters and steaming, it smelled delicious. Darren's stomach rumbled, it'd been a few hours since he'd last eaten, and he'd probably actually slept that meal off before during his nap. Darren reached for the serving spoon for mashed potatoes—one of his favorites—only to have his hand smacked by Tim,

"What gives?" Darren muttered, retracting his hand from the potato spoon,

"It's not time to eat yet," Tim stated,

"But we're sitting at the table," Darren replied, glancing around and realizing no one else had reached for their food,

"We go around and give thanks,"

"Give _what?"_ Tim rolled his eyes,

"We say what we're thankful for. It's a tradition," The concept was foreign to Darren,

"Does everyone do it?" He asked blandly

"Maybe not everyone, but we do it here," he replied shrugging. Bruce waited till everyone was settled before saying,

"Well, like with every year. I'll start us off," Darren glanced from one end of the table to the other, everyone seemed completely okay with this. Why couldn't they do this after they ate the food? It would be a waste if the food went cold,

"I'm thankful for Alfred, for making this meal…and every other meal. And I am thankful for my family," next was Damian,

"Uh…yeah, family," was all he said, clearly Damian didn't understand the tradition as well, or rather perhaps he didn't care. Dick listed of quite a few things, including Darren himself which made him scrunch down in his seat out of embarrassment. Jim said his family and that he was still alive after so many years of dealing with Gotham's criminals, which was a very logical thing to be thankful for. Barbara of course said her father and Dick and that she could walk again. Darren knew about her few years of paralysis, he couldn't imagine what that was like to go through. It seemed terrifying, but he knew how brave she was and what an incredible difference she made despite a physical setback and disability, it was very inspiring. While Barbara may be Batgirl again, Oracle and her past of paralysis was still a huge part of what made her whole. Nothing, whether she had gained the ability to walk or not, would change that,

"I'm thankful for the essentials. Food, water, shelter…coffee," Tim stated, counting the items off on his fingers,

" _Tim_ ," Bruce stated, slightly exasperated,

"And of course family," Tim amended a slight smirk on his face. All eyes then turned to Darren. He stared back and gulped, he hadn't thought he'd be a part of this,

"Um…well. I'm thankful that I found family," he started, nodding in Dick's direction…he then bit his lip, glancing at Jim and thinking of how to best phrase what he was very thankful for, even if it meant he'd live as a Talon for the rest of his life, "And I'm thankful that I'm _here_ ," he emphasized the last word, he knew the Bats would get it but he continued for Jim's sake, "I'm thankful that you welcomed me into your home…and your family," perhaps he explained more than he wanted to, but the message was delivered and it felt good to share it. Darren was thankful to be a part of their lives, and that they wanted him there in theirs. Hopefully, that feeling didn't change as time went on. But hope was a very dangerous thing for Darren, it was more often better not to wonder or hope at all.

Once it was clear Darren was finished speaking, everyone dug in. Passing platters of food around, the clinking of silverware and glasses echoed in the dining room and Titus pattered all around their feet, sniffing for scraps. Darren had to put his fork and knife down to just take it all in. It was always strange how different this lifestyle was from the one he'd been raised in. He didn't know if he'd always be familiar with it, but Darren thought could get used to it. Even so…

… _This_ felt like _family_. And it felt right too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Only two more to go and then we're on the next part of Darren's story. I'm sure the end of this chapter was a little cheesy and strangely timely as Thanksgiving (at least here in America) is a month away. But I think it was very telling of how far Darren has come since the Court of Owls...even if they're baby steps, even if it's two steps forward and one step back.
> 
> Darren's changing...Darren's adapting to this new more open (as far as the Bats can open which isn't that much tbh) lifestyle. And because of this change, Darren is looking (sort of) to the future and he's seeing the thing he fears most: that all of this good, all that he is feeling and experiencing even if he doesn't quite understand it all, will disappear in an instant but he will go on unchanging and be right back where he started. Alone, with only the Court of Owls. 
> 
> The reason I used 'sort of'' when referencing Darren looking to the future, is that Darren isn't necessarily looking to the future like he has a plan or an idea of where it will go and who he will be...he's looking to the future in terms of survival. To Darren, looking forward to the 'future' reveals that if he lasts that long, he will just end up right back where he started. There's no nuances, no wants or desires...it's merely in terms of "If I survive this long, this will happen..." That's an important distinction. 
> 
> I have no idea if y'all read these. I like to explain my thought processes for writing chapters in the endnotes, so I hope you do. If you do, and even if you don't, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT!!


	37. Chapter 37

"You said you wanted to learn how to fight, no time like the present," Bruce stated. They were in the Batcave. Darren, Bruce, and Dick. While Darren was still slightly full from Thanksgiving dinner, he'd eaten much more than he had to and was completely okay with that—he regretted nothing—it didn't prevent him from being slightly irritated by Bruce's words,

"I already know how to fight," Darren muttered, barely resisting the glare that threatened to cross his face. No matter what he felt from Bruce's words he couldn't anger the older man not when his future was laid so precariously in Bruce's hands,

"You know what I mean Darren. You need to learn how to fight non-lethally,"

"I can do this," Darren stated, a thrum of determination in his tone,

"Then prove it," Bruce replied, "This is not something to be taken lightly. When you are out with us, your actions will affect the view the people of Gotham have of us. One misstep can result in one life, or even millions of people's lives, being lost. And if you overstep the authority we have, which is not the same as the Gotham police, then they will not support us. It took us a while to get where we are today, we _cannot_ test that trust,"

"What Bruce is basically saying, this is a field test. The robots in that room may not seem like real people, but in this simulation they _are_. Everything will appear to be real in that room. So you need to act like every action you take matters," Dick supplied stepping forward, "You'll do fine," Darren suppressed an eye-roll,

"Let's get this over with," he muttered,

"Don't get cocky," Bruce warned,

"I'm not cocky, I'm underwhelmed. This is pointless, I know how to control myself," he started towards the simulation room, eager to prove to the big bad bossman that he could do what they did. To prove he wasn't the monster they feared he was,

"Say that to the gang that tried to mug you the night you ran away," Darren stopped in his stride, looking back at Bruce with narrowed eyes,

"I didn't kill them," he snapped. He was sure. Though there was that one guy he slammed into the wall pretty hard,

"All of them were admitted to a hospital. Majority with serious injuries, others minor and one is still in a coma," Darren grimaced, perhaps he shouldn't have kicked that kid so hard. Darren had slammed his head into the brick wall…Darren was strong, not as strong as he was now but he was used to fighting with Talons where he didn't have to hold anything back out of fear of hurting them,

"That won't be a problem now," Darren replied as evenly as he could,

"We'll see about that," Bruce stated, nodding towards the fighting room. With an exasperated sigh, Darren stepped into the room…the slightly useless eskrima sticks Dick had lent him grasped in both hands,

  
"Begin," Bruce stated through the microphone near the observation window.

* * *

"Did you really have to bring that up?" Dick demanded from where he stood on Bruce's left. It was clear the fact he'd told Darren the results of his skirmish the night he escaped the Court had annoyed the kid. Without taking his eyes off of Darren, who was engaging the robots—he was a whirl of motion, his form good and strong, his balance incredible which rivaled his speed but there was a sense of detachment in his fighting like he didn't seem to think or care about how the fight ended that worried him—Bruce replied,

"He needed to know the result of what a thoughtless fight can end with. We do not attack without the thought of civilians and the fact that we are not executioners in mind,"

"I know, and I get that. He understands that concept but—,"

"—he may understand that but can he channel that into his fighting?" Bruce demanded, "he needs to learn and if I need to push him a little, I will,"

"That was the night he _died_ , Bruce. I don't think that helped so much as brought back bad and violent memories for him," Bruce closed his eyes, silently cursing himself for not thinking of that,

"You are right about that, but I am right about the fact that he doesn't regard those he fights as people. They're just targets," Bruce hissed, before nonchalantly raising the difficulty level of the robots to five,

"It was how he was raised, you can't expect him to shake that on the first try,"

"He thinks he can, which is why I need to show him that he—,"

"—What? That he can't? Are you saying that he shouldn't try to do what we do? That he can't do what we do? Are you saying there is no way for him to change because that is what he'll think you are doing and he will _believe_ you. Is that what you are doing? Is that what you want?" Bruce raised the level to seven. Darren kept up, his slight grin from before turning into a frown as his blows became harder...faster...less cohesive and more instinctive. Dents were forming in the metal of the robots. Bruce's frown deepened, Dick was clearly not paying attention, he was waiting for his response,

"No. I'm not trying to tell him that. I'm trying to show him that change doesn't happen in a day,"

"It's been quite a few months and if you'd let him down here for regular training, we wouldn't have to do that," Dick was clearly annoyed with him,

"Do you really want to be Darren's sparring partner? _Look_ at him, he's not in control," Darren was throwing robots left and right—he'd raised the level to nine,

"That's because you raised the level to nine," perhaps Dick had been paying attention, "This isn't a fight anymore, this is _survival_. We could only barely handle that level,"

"And Darren can't die, he knows that. These robots on the other hand—?" Bruce pushed the dial to ten and watched as Darren, all self-control and restraint gone picked a robot up and tore it in half, "—are able to die," Dick stared at his cousin with his mouth slightly open. He shook himself before saying,

"And that's the problem with this simulation. Those robots are not people. I know we explained that they weren't, but at this level, that kind of thought goes out the window. Everyone acts differently when truly in a situation where life and death are very real choices. You can't use something artificial and say this is a person with a beating heart, a life, a family…it's not real. That won't register to Darren and it's not how to train someone to control themselves," Bruce stared levelly at Dick,

"Either way, he still lost control," Bruce started for the doors of the simulation room, a grim expression on his face.

* * *

Darren was on autopilot. He threw hunks of metal over his shoulders, dodged swipes and punches. He slammed metal heads together, not caring that they dented in the process. They kept coming, they wouldn't stop. They were like Talons, always springing up no matter what Darren did to incapacitate them. They wouldn't stop therefore Darren wouldn't go easy on them. Darren punched his hand through the chest of a robot, ignoring the gears and widgets that tore through the skin on his hand—he'd heal—ready to pull out whatever twisted piece of metal was its heart…when a high pitched whistling sound tore through his eardrums. The sound blasted at a painful pitch causing Darren to pull his hand back and clutch at his ears. He crumpled over on the ground waiting for the robots to crush him, but they never did. The sound continued before abruptly cutting off. Darren groaned, his ears still ringing, and sat up. Bruce stood at the entrance of the simulation room. He stared at the scraps and pieces of robots, a deep frown on his face,

"Did you forget that these robots were people?"

"They didn't fight like people," Darren gasped, struggling to sit up,

"Gangs have some fighting styles under their belt, it's rudimentary, but it's there. As do followers of the more dangerous villains of this City. These robots, therefore, need to fight like them,"

"They kept coming,"

"And so would actually people. No one likes losing, especially if it means incarceration,"

"They were robots. Not people," Darren insisted, eying the destruction he'd caused,

"I told you they may not look like people, they may not fight like people, but for the sake of this test they _were_ people and you lost control," Bruce's voice raised in volume. He was mad and Darren felt like shrinking down, curling in on himself. He was a failure. Darren was a fool to think he'd ever be able to fight like the Bats. He was a killer…William had been right, he'd never fit in, "if you cannot see them as people then who is to say you won't see people you face out in the City as just targets. You are stronger than us, you are faster than us and therefore you are stronger and faster than them. You can't—,"

"—father, a word," it was Damian who had interrupted Bruce,

"Damian I am in the middle of something," Bruce glared over at his son, who stood in the doorway of the room, an unamused expression on his face,

"And this is _urgent_ ," Damian stated. He didn't look at Darren, who still sat crouched on his knees, a slightly devastated expression on his face. Bruce sighed and stepped outside with Damian, leaving Darren to his thoughts.

How could he have been so stupid? How could he have thought this would work? All that training on how to kill couldn't and wouldn't have just left him that easily. So what if he didn't want to kill, it flowed through his every instinct, it's what he was—a _killer_. It's all Darren would ever be and that would never change. The door shut and for a second Darren thought Bruce was locking him in here and he started to panic…the room was a lot larger than Blackout, but the very thought of a punishment like the one from the Court made him want to scream or cry…or both and he hated that…but then...in the next instant as panic spread through Darren's very being, his dual swords were sent skidding across the floor to him. They stopped an inch or two away. Darren glanced up in surprise to find Damian standing before him, a katana in one hand, the other holding the door closed preventing Bruce—who was pounding on the other side of the door—from coming inside,

"What is this?" Darren asked, suspicious and uncertain at once. The panic was slowly leaving him...this wasn't Blackout, this wasn't the Nest, this wasn't the Court,

"Training. Pick them up," Damian snapped. Darren narrowed his eyes, was this a trick? Another test to see how epically he could fail,

"I could kill you,"

"And I could kill you, that's nothing new," Damian scoffed,

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because father doesn't understand that to prevent a killer from killing, you need to teach them restraint. And that isn't taught by tossing them into a random situation with robots and then raising the levels minute by minute," _so that's why they kept coming_ Darren realized as he grasped the handles of the swords,

"What makes you think you can stop me from doing that?"

"I was raised by the League of Assassins, I was trained in the art of killing since the day I was born. There's no one else better than myself to teach you," Darren stood,

"And how will you teach me oh wise one?" he questioned, giving the younger boy a mock bow,

"Tt. I'll get you for that snideness, Crowne. But to answer your question. I'll start by teaching you that you don't have to change your fighting style for the psychopaths and idiots terrorizing Gotham. You just learn to lessen the blow. Use an elbow instead of a sword. Use a knee instead of a dagger. You exchange one for the other and to do that you need to backtrack. Start with what you know—" he nodded at the dual swords in his hands, "—end with something less lethal but still familiar," this time he kicked the eskrima sticks Darren had initially used off to the side,

"I was…no…I _am_ an assassin, just like you. And while some may not approve of us—," Damian sent a glare at his father, who now stood at the window next to Dick who was smirking impishly at his adoptive father. Dick apparently hadn't approved of Bruce's method either, "—and try to completely change us. We cannot, but we can try to do better. It is possible to become less lethal—I am proof of that—and the only way to ensure improvement is if you fight a living opponent. One who bleeds, one who can die and will _stay_ dead if you make a mistake,"

"You're taking quite a risk," Darren monotoned, unsure of how he felt about that and about Damian's motives. If Darren hurt or even killed Damian there was no way the Bats would ever accept or help him, he would be abandoned, left to face the Court alone...and Dick would want nothing to do with him. Darren wasn't sure if he could do this...he wasn't sure if he should do this at all but Damian seemed determined and he seemed unconcerned. A fact that confused Darren,

"Tt. You and I are more alike than you think Crowne. And I trust you, you have too much of Grayson blood in you to actually attempt killing me. You will learn and remember to hold back,"

"I'll take your word for it," though secretly Darren was touched, no one had truly said they trusted him in the Manor before. They might have healed him and housed him, but they never said they trusted him. He was an assassin, a member—whether or not by choice—of their enemy. Yet Damian said he trusted him, and he saw something of Dick within his character also something no one has ever said to him before...William was his great-grandfather but Dick was also part of his family, part of what made up Darren and his character as well. The thought, the realization of that, sent a thrum of something soft and warm through Darren's chest...something that made him want to prove himself worthy of standing by the Bats', and Dick's, side,

"Good. Then let's fight," Damian growled, lurching forward.

* * *

"I know you're pissed at Damian for doing this," Dick started. Bruce felt the urge to punch Dick, he wanted to so bad but restrained himself. He punches him enough as it is in training, "But it's working," Bruce grudgingly nodded in agreement as Darren, who had the perfect opportunity for a kill shot, deftly chose to try and instead nick Damian in the side. It would leave a shallow cut, but it would bother his opponent enough to distract them for him to end the fight quickly afterward. The choice in attack caused his balance to shift slightly, caused by a break in the flow of his usual method of fighting and he stumbled, but quickly regained his footing. Damian blocked the blow and growled at Darren,

"Do that again, get used to changing the flow of your fighting from lethal to nonlethal. You need to get used to that so your balance won't be off," Darren nodded his jaw set. And they went on like that for hours. Repeating movements to relearn the footwork, to go through different forms without the ending killing blow, and instead end with an incapacitating blow. Bruce felt a swell of pride for his son, who was risking his life to train someone he hardly knew that well. Both Darren and Damian were raised as killers and that bonded them together in some way, but they were nowhere near friends. Maybe that could change though. It was clear this method was working, and he felt pride for Darren as well. He struggled a lot with himself and it took him a long time to trust himself enough to decide this is what he wanted. Perhaps he would be able to run with them on patrol soon enough if that was his choice,

"I'm proud of him," Dick stated, joy and love and pride evident in his voice,

"Took the words right out of my mouth," Bruce stated, "Though I may have made him dislike me for using a dog whistle on him,"

"Is that what that was?" Dick asked, picking up the whistle and examining the metal instrument in his hand, "That was harsh you know how sensitive his hearing is, you were hard on him,"

"Someone still has to be and God knows it won't be you,"

"You don't know that,"

"Hopefully we will in six to eight months,"

"Hopefully indeed," Dick muttered. Everyone was worried about how the case will go. They were confident it would go their way, but who is to know. There was so much time between now and then, things could change drastically in that time span. Many things could go wrong. And William could claim custody, which they wouldn't know about until it was too late. But now was not the time to worry about setbacks or possible outcomes for the court case, right now it was time to oversee the training of a new member to their patchwork family, an ally to their cause. Perhaps Bruce had judged Darren too harshly too soon. Maybe it was time to learn to trust one another and Bruce wouldn't make the mistake of mistrusting Darren again...at least not without reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter! Second to last one, I know perhaps these last few chapters haven't been as action-packed as one would expect for the ending of a story, but I think it's appropriate given how chaotic the majority of Darren's story initially was. It is also to show the contrast between his life at the Court, which was always shrouded in paranoia and suspicion, and the Bats at Wayne Manor where it's more of a respite, still marked by uncertainty in Darren's position among their family and the Bats as vigilantes but much more so a momentary lapse in the tension that Darren carried with him throughout his time with the Court. Darren is able for the most part, relax and let his guard down which is why he reacted so intensely during the training simulation. Too much all at once bombarded him with memories of Talons and Blackout, and brought out the worst of his training and Talon-like instincts.
> 
> Also the whole 'Bruce really wanted to punch Dick' thing was a nod to all those memes from the comics of Bruce slapping and punching Dick XD 
> 
> PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT! I do really love to hear your guys' thoughts and/or any questions you may have.


	38. Chapter 38

Darren stepped out of the shower, the steam curling around in the air and gooseflesh popping up on his skin as he left the heat of the shower. He pulled a towel down from the hook and rubbed his hair with it so it wasn't so damp and then wrapped it around his waist. Training had picked up in the past few days. He was enjoying it immensely. He hadn't realized it at first but he missed the discipline of training in general, though the dynamic of the Bats was much different than that of the Talons. Darren didn't mind the change and he didn't mind training with Damian rather than Dick or Bruce. Despite the kid having an attitude, Darren felt that they understood each other in a way he and the others couldn't. They were both raised to be a weapon with no choice in the matter at all. Turns out choice isn't something to be challenged, it was a right. They both chose not to become their forced futures.

It was hard not to fall back on old habits though. He was used to not holding back because his opponents wouldn't either. And while Damian wasn't one to let up, he was also still just a human with human strength. Darren had to be careful, one wrong move and he could snap a bone or cause irreversible damage. Eventually, it would become second nature…at least he hoped it would. He didn't want his Talon training to be at the forefront of his mind when he is finally allowed out with the others, he can't fall back on that. He cannot forget that these were people, not targets like they might have been if he'd still been with the Court,

"The Court," Darren spat out loud with disgust as he walked over to the sink. He shook his head, water spraying onto the tiles. He banished all thoughts of them as he wiped at the mirror with his hand, only to freeze at catching a glimpse of the tip of the winged-scars on his triceps. The hand towel dropped down to the sink as he just stared at the pale scars. Darren hated them. He despised them. Every time he saw them, just a glimpse or a glance, he could feel the tip of the knife digging under his skin. They'll tingle or itch. Darren would jerk with phantom slaps of the whip. No matter what, seeing them always brought him back to that moment…and he _hated_ it.

Darren gripped the edges of the sink and shook his head, dispelling the thoughts of the Court and his wounds. They were in the past, this is now. He was not in the Court, he would not ever go back to them. Not for anything. But still, almost without even thinking, Darren silently turned looking over his shoulder at the ever visible design on his back and the jagged whip marks within it. Darren closed his eyes and faced forward again. Perhaps he could get rid of the scars. There were ways to do so…but as horrible as the message the old wounds presented, it was also a reminder of what having no freedom entailed. William had said his 'wings' would always be an owls' wings, that he'd be an outsider in this family. But day by day that was being proved wrong. William also claimed that he could never fly free, and perhaps that was true. No matter where he went Darren would always be hunted by the Court, and the wounds given to him by his great-grandfather would always be a reminder that they were there, watching…waiting…biding their time. If he covered them up, he'd be as much a coward as he was when faced with them in the mirror. And yet, there was a solution to his problem. Darren has been thinking of it for some time and perhaps it would work. He would need Malik's help, but it would help Darren deal with the scars he hated so much,

"Darren?" Dick called from behind his bedroom door.

"Yeah?" he called back, raising his voice slightly so Dick could hear him,

"Alfred made cookies, you better hurry if you want some," Darren scrambled to find some clothes before dashing down to the kitchen after Dick, Tim, and Damian who were hurrying for the sweet treats. Perhaps Darren hated his scars, even if they reminded him he was free despite his great-grandfather's warning, but they did not occupy his mind all the time. And he was living his life without fear of what those words meant. He was free...or at least on the path to freedom. Darren was with family, and he was going to do something with the skills he had. That was enough for him.

* * *

"You sure he's ready for this?" Dick asked, looking down at the wrapped present on the console of the batcomputer,

"He's on his way to being ready. This is incentive," Bruce replied, "He'll be ready in due time though. It will be a process of trial and error, but I foresee he is more ready than any of us know,"

"Hopefully this doesn't get himself killed, again," Damian muttered, crossing his arms, "he is doing well, for someone who has trained since the age of five to kill people,"

"Yeah, he hasn't killed you by accident yet. _Bummer,"_ Tim muttered meandering over to where they stood, "This is exciting,"

"He's not going to be on his own out there. We'll have to keep an eye on him," Bruce stated,

"We get it, we'll need to be his chaperone from time to time," Stephanie said shrugging,

"Not from time to time," Bruce corrected, a frown on his face,

"Sorry, until you deem he's not a threat. Forgot who you were for a moment," she rolled her eyes,

"Oh let us be happy for him. He's come so far and worked hard for this," Barbara stated, pulling her cowl over her bright red hair, "This is a big step forward for him,"

"Let's hope there won't be a step back," Bruce muttered,

"There won't," Dick insisted, picking up the gift, "I'll give it to him,"

"Let's all give it to him," Barbara stated, putting a hand on the gift, "I mean, it's a pretty important moment for him. He's our family now and therefore, we should be there for this,"

"It's just a—," Damian started, only to be glared at by everyone but Bruce, "Tt, whatever," he muttered with a shrug,

"What did he decide on?" Tim wondered out loud,

"He's taking up an old mantle," Dick stated, grinning wryly, "Definitely a mantle that will suit him better than it did me."

* * *

Darren couldn't help but grin...it felt slightly odd to feel a smile stretch so freely across his face. The tug of it against his cheeks was unfamiliar but appealing. Today was something unexpected. Today was his first patrol…and it might not be exactly what he had in mind, there were rules and restrictions to follow and nothing could be out of place or out of sync…but Darren would be out there. He'd be one of them…something he never thought he could be. A full-fledged smile spread across his face, not the half-smiles he threw to others to please them. Darren stood facing the glass case. The red and black suit, newly cut and fitted for him stared back. It was _his_ now. It was his turn to wear it and to make a legacy out of it. Darren would be Renegade, he would be something other than a Talon, other than William Cobb's heir and the Court's secret weapon within the people of Gotham City. Darren was something he _chose_ to be and more importantly something he _wanted_ to be. It was his choice to become this…this _vigilante._ Darren was doing something he wanted to…and it felt almost foreign, but exciting. It felt right.

He placed a hand on the glass, ready to open it and change into the suit. It was armored, even though he wouldn't need much for the crooks of Gotham. He knew what it really was for, the Talons. They were still out there and they would not hesitate to kill him or capture him…whichever came first. Darren would be in constant danger and in a way, he would be putting the others and civilians in danger if the Talons dared to attack him while on patrol with the rest of the Bats. Darren's hand stilled against the glass panel to open the case, his smile disappearing. Was it worth the risk to do this? Was it worth endangering and possibly getting everyone else killed just so he can try to do some good in the city? Was that fair? Was that the right choice? Darren sighed, in a way…that was the price of freedom and of choice, you didn't know what was the right course of action because now that mattered. Right and wrong had always been a struggle for Darren…and it seemed it always would be,

"Darren, you ready?" Dick asked, walking over to him. He already wore his suit. The black and blue a twin to his black and red. He saw Darren's face, "You're not having second thoughts are you?"

"No…it's not that, well…it's just…is it right for me to go out there?" Darren questioned, looking back at his cousin over his shoulder,

"What do you mean? You worked hard for this. You've been through so much just to decide that you _wanted_ to do this. You deserve to do something you want to do,"

"But the Court is still out there…I'll be hunted by them. I could put you or the others at risk—,"

"—you can't think like that. While you are trying to hold back out there with the regular criminals, you do not have to with the Talons,"

"They'll fear me then," Darren replied, still staring at the suit in the case. Dick knew he meant the civilians, the police force, _everyone._ If they saw what he could do...what he was willing to do so easily, they would never trust him or approve of him. They would see him as just another Talon,

"Batman's whole crusade is based on the fear he invokes," Dick reminded him,

"They don't fear you,"

"I'm not him, and you're not me. They will decide for themselves what to think of you. But you need to give them a chance to do that before believing they'll despise you,"

"They fear anyone or anything that kills them or endangers them when they can't defend themselves. They'll see me as just that if I go killing Talons…and who's to say I won't slip and kill a criminal,"

"That's what we're here for,"

"But what if I hurt _you!"_ Darren demanded, his voice sharp echoing against the dark cave walls sending the bats screeching their discontent,

"Again, you can't think like that. It hasn't happened yet and it won't happen. You _are_ ready for this," Dick insisted, his tone firm and expression determined,

"And if they do hate me? What will you do?" Perhaps Darren didn't mean Dick himself, perhaps he meant Bruce,

"Nothing. It won't matter. If you think you are making a difference and if you think you are doing good despite the Court hunting you, then that is all that matters. You are Renegade. You're unconventional like your namesake and other peoples' opinions shouldn't matter to you. If you don't think you can do this, you don't have to. We don't want to push you into doing something you don't believe you're ready for,"

 _"No_ …I'm ready. I…I guess I'm just nervous," Darren let out a small chuckle, it was the first time he'd been nervous about fighting since he was little. Dick put a hand on his shoulder, and for once Darren didn't pull away. He leaned into the touch, the comfort it brought. A feeling Darren wasn't quite used to, perhaps a feeling...a gesture...he'd never get entirely used to,

"You'll do great Renegade," Darren liked hearing his new name, the ring it had. It felt right for a change, much better than _Talon_. And it was his own name, perhaps it wasn't his at first, but it had been given to him. By someone who believed in him and stood by him when things were tough and dangerous…someone who stood by Darren even through death. And it was a name he chose, not one forced upon him by others. Darren opened the case and pulled out the suit. It didn't feel as heavy as it looked, and Darren was grateful for that. He never really cared for the suit of the Talons. _That_ armored suit was stiff and heavy despite its wearers being so acrobatic and light. Though they needed it to be sturdy because they fell and fought and broke bones _a lot._

When Darren emerged, he couldn't help but feel invigorated. The suit fit a lot like the Talon suit did, but it was lighter, homier even. It didn't feel oppressive like the other suits Darren wore before. The suit was also insulated, though they still had a cloak for when it got really cold in Gotham, which it inevitably would,

"Now this is probationary patrol only," Bruce said as he walked over, "You stay with whomever I put you with for the whole night, and you listen to them,"

"Yes sir," Darren said, refraining with difficulty from throwing a mock salute in,

"No weapons, not yet," Darren nodded,

"I don't have any," Bruce gave him a look, "I swear! I'm not Damian!" though he did have a dagger hidden in his boot. If a Talon did attack him he knew where to hit to give himself, and whoever he was with, a head start. It was something Darren needed and Bruce would appreciate the lie, especially if it meant saving one of his own. If life as an assassin has taught Darren anything: it was better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission, and old habits died hard…and some old habits may save lives,

"And good luck," Bruce stated,

"Wait…I'm not going out with you? Wouldn't you want to keep me out of trouble?"

"No. I figured your first patrol should be with Dick…it is a family business so what better person to teach you the ropes than your cousin himself. There will be other days to go out with myself or the others," Darren grinned bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. He never thought he'd be ready for something like this. He never thought he'd be trusted with this kind of task before in his life. His future which was once filled with death and destruction is now filled with life and possibility. Darren followed Dick out into the city. The wind in his hair and a chill he didn't feel for once in the air around him. The city full of people who needed protection. Something he would provide, despite the risk that may come with it. Darren wasn't anyone's weapon to wield. Darren was nobody's to control. He was _free_. And this was only just the beginning.

* * *

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading. I always am nervous until I hit at least 1000 views. This was the last chapter which means we'll start with part II of Darren's story next Saturday. I hope you guys are excited.
> 
> PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment so I know how I'm doing and what you guys think. Since I am new to all this, the tags and information regarding these stories may change as I a) learn the ropes a bit more and b) you guys provide insight and suggestions to help me out regarding getting my story out there and to the correct places. The third chapter will be up next Saturday.


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